


I Can't Say Goodbye (Are There Windows in Heaven?)

by kikikryslee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, And just a bunch of cliches thrown in for good measure, Angst, Bartender Harry, Bartender Zayn, Bottom Louis, By that I mean he sort of bashes it, Don't read if that will offend you, Firefighter Liam, Happy Ending, I say that with love, Lilo are best friends, Loss of Parent(s), Louis questions religion A LOT, M/M, Pining, Religion, Riding, Sad Louis, Smut, Top Harry, Well obviously, You might cry at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:28:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3562973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikikryslee/pseuds/kikikryslee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I go to my dad’s grave sometimes, because my sister said it would help with the grieving process, you know?" Louis said. "Like, go and talk to him like he’s still here. But I go, and then I just sit there. I can’t even talk. Like, he can’t hear me, so what’s left to say?”<br/>Harry shrugged. “Maybe it’s just meant to be a kind of closure? I mean, yeah, you had a funeral where you could say goodbye, but did you actually have a real last conversation with him?”<br/>Louis shook his head.<br/>“Maybe that’s why it helps? You get to say all the things you didn’t get a chance to say?”<br/>---<br/>After the loss of his father, Louis doesn't know how to say goodbye.<br/>Harry shows him that he doesn't really have to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Say Goodbye (Are There Windows in Heaven?)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first ever oneshot. I never in a million years thought I would ever write something dealing with religion, but here I am. I hope you guys enjoy it!  
> The title of it is from a song called [Windows in Heaven](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Ja7E8cBqNo) by the band We Are The In Crowd. (If you don't know them, check them out. They're one of my favorites.)  
> This story is about the loss of a parent, specifically, Louis' dad. Louis also kind of hates religion, doesn't see the point in it and **really** cynically questions it.  
>  If that's going to bother you, **DO NOT READ THIS.**  
>  OK. You can read it now, if you'd like.
> 
> *This work is unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are my own!*
> 
> **DO NOT post this story or any of my other stories on any other websites. I'm not comfortable with that, and I hope that you can please respect that. If you see any of my stories on another website, please let me know. I am also NOT currently authorizing translations of any of my stories at this time. I hope you can respect that, as well. Thank you!**

Louis stood in front of the casket, feeling like he was in the middle of a terrible nightmare that hadn’t ended yet.

Just a week ago, he was graduating from college; today, he was saying goodbye to his father.

His dad had been sick, sure, but was getting better. And then all of a sudden, he was just gone.

How was this fair?

“Lou,” Fizzy nudged him from his right.

He looked back at her, silently apologizing. With one last glance at his dad, he returned to his seat in the pew.

As he walked, he nodded at Liam and his parents, who were sitting in the row behind him.

Liam’s eyes were red, and so were his mother’s. His father was trying to appear tough, but Louis knew how much Geoff was crying on the inside. 

The Tomlinsons and the Paynes had been neighbors forever, living just across the street from each other ever since Louis and his family moved in after Fizzy was born.

He sat down next to Lottie and waited for his mom and other sisters to sit back down with him.

Looking over toward the other side of the church, he realized that he didn’t even know most of the people in the first few rows.

There were some people from his dad’s job that he recognized, but didn’t know the names of. His mom had introduced him to a few of the guys that his dad had grown up with. They and their wives had all cooed over how big Louis had gotten since they’d last seen him.

There was also some of Mark’s distant family: cousins that Louis had only heard of and second cousins that he’d never met.

Luckily, though, the rest of the church was filled with people he’d known for most of his life: kids in his high school graduating class, former teachers, shop owners who’d known him since he was a teenager.

It was a small town, so everybody knew everybody, a fact that he was sort of glad for today.

Fizzy plopped down on the other side of him.

Louis looked down at his second younger sister, who had tears running down her cheeks. On his other side, though, Lottie was trying to stay strong.

Her eyes were lined with red, but not a single tear was spilling.

Louis wrapped an arm around each of them, pulling them closer to his sides.

On the other side of Fizzy, Daisy and Phoebe sat on either side of their mother, each tightly holding one of her hands.

Jay hadn’t reacted well to the news of her husband’s passing.

Louis was actually partially surprised she hadn't renounced her religion in the wake of it. 

When his father had first gotten sick six years ago, Jay, Mark and the girls started going to church every Sunday. Jay never made Louis go since he was sixteen and old enough to decide whether he wanted to attend service or not.

Every week, he chose not to go. He hadn’t grown up with religion in his life, and he never understood the appeal to it.

His mom, however, had. Apparently, it made her feel better to have a God to pray to in hopes that her husband would magically be cured. The hope she’d been given through her prayer was enough to keep her going strong for her five children.

It had been a long six years, and a long time of Louis feeling like the black sheep of the family because he didn’t go to church at 9 a.m. on Sunday mornings or bow his head to bless the food every night at dinner.

The point was, his father was gone and Louis was trying to hold his family together as the only man in the house now.

“Please be seated,” the reverend began.

Louis got comfortable in his seat as, for the next hour, various church members and clergymen came up to the podium to speak about how wonderful his father was, and how his amazing personality related to different psalms in the Bible.

Louis couldn’t help but sigh every time a speaker quoted a new verse and talked about how his dad was in a better place now and on the path to righteousness.

He didn’t want to be cynical, but did people really find comfort in this? He didn’t feel any better about his father being dead now than he did when he first walked in.

He didn’t feel at peace now that the reverend explained that Mark had a seat up in Heaven next to God, and now that he’d served his purpose on Earth, he was going up to take that seat.

It didn’t make him happy to know that his father wouldn’t be coming home today because he was ready to spend his time with the angels above.

It was bullshit, and Louis didn’t want to be angry at the fact that his father was gone, but honestly, at that moment, it was all that he could feel.

\---

That night, Louis lay on his bed, staring up at his ceiling. Everybody had finally gone home about an hour ago, and it wasn’t a minute too soon.

If Louis had heard ‘I can’t believe how old you are!’ one more time, he would’ve opened the freezer, taken out one of the ‘Sorry for your loss’ casseroles the family had gotten from their neighbors, and chucked it at someone’s head.

The house was quiet now, and Louis didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

Liam told him before he left that he should call him up if he wanted to get out of the house, but Louis wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. He kind of just wanted to be alone for a while. 

After another hour of doing nothing, he got himself up and walked out to check on his mom.

He kept an ear trained upstairs, as he’s done for years, listening out for any crying girls.

He heard none and continued walking.

Jay was on the phone.

Pausing outside of the kitchen door, he stopped to listen.

“Yes, thank you very much for calling,” she said.

She paused while whomever she was talking to spoke.

“Well, you know, he’s in a much better place now, and he’s not feeling any pain anymore. And of course, it’s only temporary. Our place on this Earth isn’t permanent, and it was just his time to go be with our Father. I’ll be seeing him again soon.”

She stopped one more time.

“Exactly. It’s not ‘good-bye’; it’s ‘see you later.’ You’re right.”

Louis leaned against the wall, wanting to punch it in frustration.

He hated feeling this way: like he was the only one who understood what was happening.

His father was dead. Gone. Never going to walk through the front door again, and his mom kept spewing out this bullshit.

He felt like his mom was doing all of this and wasn’t letting herself understand that, wasn’t letting herself feel angry or upset at the loss of her husband and the father of her children.

Before he went into the kitchen and said something he would regret, Louis turned around and walked back to his room.

He sat down on his bed and clenched his fists a few times.

Without thinking, he grabbed his phone, wallet and keys and stuffed them into his pockets.

He put on his jacket and sneakers and walked out of the house, simply calling out to his mom, “I’ll be back!”

He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he just had to go.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked around the corner from the house, thankful that the night air wasn’t too brisk.

His dad had always loved having bonfires on nights like these. Mark had taught Louis the magic of a perfectly roasted s’more and sleeping in a tent under the stars when he was about ten.

Every now and then, the two of them would escape the house, just the guys. But they never strayed farther than their own backyard, and that was perfectly fine with Louis.

He was very partial to indoor plumbing.

After a few minutes, he found himself close to Cadogan’s, the pub that he and Liam visited quite often, as it was the only one actually  _in_ town.

Zayn, one of the younger bartenders there, never carded them, so they were drinking at the bar when they were nineteen. Zayn hadn't moved there until that point, so he, unlike the other bartenders, didn't know their true ages. 

Besides, the two of them were growing facial hair at that point, so it helped them look old enough to actually be there.

Louis always suspected Zayn just didn’t give a shit, though.

He walked in and said hello to some of the people already inside.

Since it was a Tuesday, there were plenty of seats available at the bar.

He snagged one where he could see a TV and took out his wallet.

“What can I get you?”

He turned toward the unfamiliar voice, seeing a bartender placing a napkin in front of him.

“Corona,” he requested.

“Lime?”

Louis scoffed. “Is there any other way to drink it?”

The guy nodded. “Got ID?”

“You serious?”

“Yeah. Got to be 21 to be in here, so… Have any ID?”

“You really must be new here.”

Louis cooperated, though. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide.

After flashing his license, the bartender nodded. “Be right back with that.”

Louis shook his head. Figured that the new guy would actually card him  _after_  he was old enough to drink. 

“Here you go,” the guy said to Louis, handing him the beer.

“Thank you,” Louis smiled. He squeezed the lime into his drink and slipped the fruit down the neck of his bottle. “So how new are you here?"

“Officially started working here last month, after all the training and everything."

"Yeah? You like it so far?"

"Yeah, it's not bad. I like the job; the pay's good. And the people around here have been pretty welcoming."

"Even Zayn?" Louis smirked. 

"Yeah, Zayn's cool. You know him?"

"He's a buddy of mine. We've known each other a couple years."

"So why'd you ask if he was welcoming? Should I be worried?" the bartender wondered. 

"Nah. It's just, Zayn's trained a lot of people in the past few years. But none of them ever stuck around that long, so he usually doesn't warm up to people right away."

"Why don't they stick around?"

Louis shrugged. "Small town life isn't for everybody. People move here, see what it's like to live here every single day and panic. They feel suffocated. At least, people our age do. Families with kids generally love it here. And why wouldn't they? I mean, everything is in walking distance, kids go through school with the exact same people year after year and there hasn't been any major construction since the 1980's. It's not everybody's cup of tea. I've lived here my whole life, though, so I like it just fine."

The bartender nodded. "Yeah, I like it a lot. I think I like it a little bit more now, though."

He gave Louis a subtle once-over, all the while a pale blush lining the top of his cheeks. 

Louis smiled at him and took a swig of his drink.

“Um, I’ll- I'll be back to check on you, all right?” He dropped a hand down on the bar and approached a new customer.

Louis glanced up at the baseball game playing on the television. He didn’t really care about the sport but his dad's team was playing. 

His dad had loved baseball, and had even taken Louis to a few games. But Louis had always been more focused on trying to get on the big screen than with the actual score.

It just wasn't his thing. 

Besides, Louis also needed something to look at besides the hot bartender.

The same hot bartender whose eyes he would’ve met if Louis had been watching him and not the meaningless sports game.

When Louis finished his beer, he placed the empty bottle down and sat back in his chair.

Within thirty seconds, Hot Bartender was in front of him, asking him if he wanted another.

“Sure,” Louis shrugged.

When Hot Bartender came back with it, he looked almost hesitant.

“What?” Louis asked.

“Nothing, just… I mean, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, and I would totally get it if you didn’t, but-“

“What?” Louis smiled.

“Just…” Hot Bartender licked his lips, totally distracting Louis from the sarcastic comments he had been about to make.

“You seem kind of sad, and, I’ve been told I’m a really good listener if you need to talk about it.”

Louis pressed his lips together, feeling that familiar clenching in his chest that came when he was holding in his tears.

He gawked at this guy, who he’d first met only twenty minutes ago, kind of annoyed that he was actually asking to be let into Louis’ life, and on one of the worst days of his life, too.

He realized he was still staring when Hot Bartender cleared his throat, shaking him from his daze.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. Well, even more upset. Like, you seem like a really nice guy, and I just felt bad that you looked so miserable. And – fuck, not that you’re miserable, I mean, um… It’s pretty obvious I haven’t worked here that long, isn’t it?”

Louis let out a quiet laugh. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Listen, um…”

“Harry.”

“Harry,” Louis repeated. “Um, you’re right, I am kind of miserable right now. But, it’s not your problem. I don’t want to drag you down with my issues.”

“But I asked, so, if you want to tell me, you can.”

Louis looked up at Harry, straight into his bright green eyes that were so genuine and full of kindness that Louis felt a lot calmer than he had a few seconds ago.

He subconsciously glanced up at the television again. 

"Is it the game?" Harry wanted to know. "Because I can change it if you want me to."

"No, don't change the game. Um, it's my dad's favorite team."

"Why does it make you look so sad if it's your dad's favorite?"

“Because, um... My dad died last week, and his funeral was today,” he rushed out.

“Shit. Louis, I’m sorry. So sorry.”

He furrowed his brow. “How did you know my name?”

“Oh, um, I checked your name earlier? When you showed me your license for the beer?”

Louis shut his eyes in embarrassment. “Of course. Sorry, I forgot I even showed you that.”

“It’s OK.”

Louis slowly opened his eyes again to find Harry watching him carefully.

“So, you’re Mark’s son?”

“Stepson. Was.”

“Oh. I’ve seen him around town from time to time, with your mom or with your sisters.”

“Social butterflies, they are,” Louis smiled.

“Why haven’t I seen you around, though?”

“Just moved back from school. A week ago, actually.”

Harry’s eyes moved slowly from side to side, trying to understand.

“A week? So-“

“Yeah,” Louis interrupted. “It was the same day I graduated from school.”

“Oh.”

“Haven’t really felt like leaving my house much.”

“It’s understandable. You’re allowed to be sad and hate the world, if you want.”

Louis nodded, taking a drink from his new beer.

“What else is there?” Harry asked.

Louis hesitated. If Harry didn’t follow religion, then it would be easy to talk about this. But if he did, well, it could get a little tricky, and he really didn’t feel like getting into a religious debate at the moment.

But Harry was looking at him with those kind eyes again, and it made Louis  _want_ to share, like he would be hurting Harry’s feelings if he didn’t tell him what he was thinking.

So he decided to go for it.

He took another swig of his beer before asking, “Are you a religious man, Harry?”

Harry looked surprised by the question, but not offended. That was a good sign.

“Not really, no. I mean, I believe in fate and destiny and all that. Like, I think there’s a reason for everything, if you want to call any of that religious. But, I don’t go to church or read the Bible or anything. Did that answer your question?”

“It did,” Louis assured.

“What about you?”

“I don’t know what I believe, to be honest. I don’t think that there’s some higher power that we should be praying to, though. Like, if someone passes away, they’re not ‘in a better place.’ Yeah, they’re no longer in pain anymore, but it’s because they’re gone: not in heaven, just six feet under. And like, I get that people feel better putting their trust in God or whatever or whoever they pray to, but… Not me. It doesn’t work for me.”

“Let me guess? Your family doesn’t view it that way.”

“Pretty much. I know that it’s helping them – my mom, at the very least – but it’s kind of annoying hearing about it when I don’t feel the same way. I feel like an asshole for saying that, but it is what it is.”

“You’re not an asshole for feeling the way you feel. Religion works for some people and a lack of religion works for others. You don’t have to feel bad for not praising God for everything that happens in your life. As long as you’re a good person, it’s not a big deal.”

Louis thanked him for his honesty.

“Here,” Harry said as he placed two shot glasses in front of Louis.

Louis watched as the bartender filled both of them to the brim.

“What is it?” Louis inquired, not fast enough to read the label of the brown glass bottle that Harry quickly put away.

“Strong.”

Louis took a whiff of one of the glasses and pulled back. “You can say that again.”

“Strong.”

“Not literally, Harry.”

“Just drink it. It won’t kill you.”

Harry flushed when he realized what he said. “God, I really need to work on my people skills.”

“On the contrary,” Louis said. He picked up a shot glass and gulped down its contents. “I think you’re quite charming.”

Harry flashed him a shy smile before following Louis’ lead.

He visibly winced when he finished swallowing down the amber liquid.

“Jameson?” Louis guessed.

“Yup.”

“You don’t do Jameson, do you?”

“Not really.”

“Eh, don’t worry. It’ll put some hair on your chest.”

“Good,” Harry said. “Because I’ve been waiting for that to come in for twenty-one years now.”

Louis couldn’t hold back his loud laugh.

\---

_Louis walked into the kitchen, dressed and ready to go to his graduation dinner._

_“Hey, Dad,” he greeted Mark, who was drinking some water._

_“Should we make bets on how long it takes your sisters to actually be ready to leave?” Mark grinned._

_“Probably. I’m gonna say at least twenty minutes.”_

_“Have some faith,” Mark insisted. “I think they’ll be ready in ten minutes, but your mother will take a half hour.”_

_“I heard that!” Jay pouted, slightly pushing open the door and peeking her head into the kitchen. “And for your information, I'm ready and Lottie and Fizzy are just about done. We’re only waiting for the twins.”_

_“Hey, mom, you can’t blame us for expecting history to repeat itself.”_

_“History does not repeat itself, Lewis_. _”_

 _“Don’t_ Lewis  _me, mother!”_

 _“I can call you Lewis_   _all I want. I named you; I can call you any variation of the name that I choose.”_

_“You’re ridiculous.”_

_“So are you, but I still love you, Louis William.”_

_Louis smiled at his mom and turned back to his dad, who was just staring off into space, looking pale._

_“Dad, you all right?” Louis asked._

_Mark didn’t respond._

_“Dad?” Louis wondered again, noticing how his stepdad was breathing heavier._

_Just as Louis reached a hand out to shake the older man out of whatever daze he was in, Mark dropped his glass and fell to the floor._

\---

Louis awoke the next morning with a start.

He wiped the tears from his eyes that, as usual, had fallen during his sleep.

It wasn’t a completely surprising dream for him to have. He’d been having it, or some variation of it, since the day after it happened.

Despite not getting home until after 1 a.m., he was suddenly very wide-awake at quarter after 7.

He grabbed his phone off the bedside table and started scrolling through Facebook. There were a lot of status updates from people he went to school with, talking about graduation parties and submitting job applications.

 _Ugh_ , Louis groaned to himself. Jobs. He told himself when he graduated that he wouldn’t wait, that he would start applying the day after he got home.

Well, that had been…  _before_.

He put his phone back and rolled onto his side.

From here, he could see Liam’s house through his window. He wondered if his friend was home.  

After they graduated high school, Louis had gone away to college and Liam, surprising no one, stayed in town and started the process to be a firefighter.

Four years later, and he was officially on the force, putting out fires, keeping their town and its surrounding areas safe and spending 24 hours at a time in uniform.

Louis didn’t understand how his friend did it: worked 24 hours straight to have the next 48 hours off.

But it was what Liam loved, so he couldn’t fault him for it.

Anyway, Liam had been off yesterday, but Louis didn’t know if that meant that he was off again today or would be working.

There was only one way to find out.

He grabbed his phone and called his friend, waiting patiently as it rang.

On the fifth ring, Liam groggily answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, buddy!” Louis greeted cheerily.

“Louis, it’s like, 7:30 in the morning.”

“I know. Just wondering if you were off today.”

“Yeah, I go back in tomorrow.”

“Good to know. Do you want to get breakfast?”

“What?”

“Breakfast? Want to go to the diner?”

“Seriously? Since when are you an early riser?”

“I don’t know. I just, couldn’t sleep, I guess.”

Liam could hear the pout and sadness in Louis’ voice through the phone.

“All right,” he sighed. “Meet me out front in ten minutes.”

“You’re the best, Li.”

“Don’t ever forget that.”

Exactly ten minutes later, Liam walked out of his house and met Louis in the middle of the street, like they always did.

“Right on time,” Louis praised.

Liam just nodded before turning and walking toward the diner.

The one they went to was only a few blocks away.

“So what’s changed about this place since the last time I was here?”

Due to Louis’ busy student teaching schedule, he hadn’t been home since his January break.

He was sure he’d missed a lot.

“Nothing,” Liam answered simply. “Nothing major, anyway. The Turners got a new dog. His name is Rocky.”

“About time. Cammie’s been wanting a puppy since the day she was born.”

“Basically. Um, they’re making the student parking lot at the high school bigger. Plus, they might be redoing the gym next summer. There was a town council meeting about it last month.”

“We’ve been saying they need to redo the gym since we were freshmen there,” Louis complained. “Why’d it take so long?”

“Mostly because there weren’t enough students at the school then. But there are more kids these days. That’s why the parking lot has to get bigger. The elementary school might even get a few new rooms.”

“Who knew our little town was such an up-and-comer?”

“Not me, that’s for sure,” Liam grumbled.

“Anything else?”

“Not really.”

“Did Cadogan’s get a new bartender?”

“Oh yeah, yeah. I forgot about that. Harry’s his name. Seems like a cool guy; I’ve seen him around town before. Never really talked to him, though.”

“Yeah, I met him last night,” Louis admitted.

“If you knew, then why’d you-“

“What’s his story? Like, where did he come from?”

Liam shrugged, effectively distracted. “I don’t know much about him. He moved here in like, April? I guess he’s single. He doesn’t live with anyone; doesn’t have any family here. He just kind of showed up one day.”

“He’s not like, an ex-con, is he?”

“Hell if I know. He seems too nice to be one, though.”

“What do you mean?” Louis wondered.

“Like, he has one of those faces that just screams, ‘I brake for squirrels,’ or, ‘your pain is my pain.’ He’s more ex-preschool teacher than ex-con.”

“Now working at the bar.”

“Yup. Did you talk to him when you met him last night?”

“A little. You’re right about the face thing. I told him all about my dad.”

“ _All_ about your dad?”

“Well not  _all,_ ” Louis shook his head. “Just like, the basics. He was sick; he passed away; I miss him. That kind of thing.”

“Oh, OK.”

“Yeah, he was just nice to talk to. Talked a little about religion, too.”

“ _You_ talked about religion?” Liam gasped. “How many did you have before that happened?”

“Well, I guess we talked more about not having a religion.”

“That makes more sense.”

“He just made me feel better about not believing in the same things as mom and the girls.”

“How’d he make you feel better?”

“Well-” Louis looked over to see Liam smirking, with his eyebrows suggestively raised. “Not like that, you pervert! I just met the man!”

“Listen, I’ve heard stories from Niall about you at college. If those are true, then that hasn’t stopped you before.”

“Fuck off,” Louis grumbled.

It was a little too loud, though, as Mrs. Carson, the hardware store owner’s wife, went jogging by and gave them an irritated look.

“Sorry,” Louis apologized weakly after her.

Liam let out the laugh he’d been stifling.

“Anyway,” Louis began once Liam calmed down, “he just said it was OK to not have religion. That it didn’t make me a bad person.”

“I’ve been telling you that for years.”

“Yeah, but you’re a bit biased, aren’t you? You’ve known me since I was eight. It was just nice to hear it from someone else, I guess.”

Liam wrapped an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “You’re not a bad person.”

“Thanks,” Louis smiled. “Now come on. We’ve been walking for too long already. I’m in the mood for some red velvet pancakes.”

“Now you’re talking.”

\---

_“OK, so here’s the plan,” Jay announced to the car as she drove down their street._

_“Go ahead, Mom,” Louis called from the back seat of the van, where he sat between Lottie and Fizzy._

_“We get home, change and go out to dinner because Louis is officially graduated from college!”_

_The whole car started cheering in excitement, while Mark just weakly smiled at the graduate from his spot in the passenger seat._

_“I’m so proud of you, Lou,” Mark praised._

_“Thanks, Dad.”_

_“You’re gonna be the best teacher this town has ever seen. They’re gonna write stories about you in every school newsletter.”_

_Louis laughed. “I don’t know if that’s how that works, Dad, but whatever you say.”_

_“Hey, I’m just saying; you’ll probably direct a school play your first year and one of your kids will become the next, um… Jay, who’s someone on Broadway?”_

_“Idina Menzel!” the twins called out in unison._

_“Yes! Idina Menzel!”_

_“You only know who that is because of_ Frozen _,” Lottie cut in._

_“Whatever,” Phoebe said._

_“We still know it,” Daisy added._

\---

Louis woke up again on Sunday morning with memories of  _that day_ weighing down his mind.

But he also woke up determined.

He was going to throw himself into filling out job applications. His father had believed that he would be the best teacher in town, and, more than anything, he wanted to prove him right.

He walked down to the kitchen and toasted himself a bagel.

Once he’d topped it with cream cheese, he returned to his room and turned on his computer.

While it was loading, he opened up one of the duffel bags he hadn’t yet unpacked and pulled out the envelope he’d tossed in there that had copies of his recommendation letters.

It had been easy to score four references: his co-teacher from student teaching, his soccer coach and two professors.

Louis was well liked at college. He was surprisingly good at the school aspect, shocking even himself, considering he didn’t really give two fucks going through high school. He basically did the bare minimum to keep his spot on the soccer team, which landed him the scholarship to go away for college for the next four years. 

He’d always had the social aspect of school nailed down, finding it easy to make friends no matter where he went.

Take his best college friend, Niall, for example.

The two of them met at a party freshman year when the blonde needed a partner for beer pong.

Louis was halfway gone at the time, so he volunteered himself without realizing what he was even doing.

He wound up being pretty decent in his semi-inebriated state, so he and Niall stayed partners the rest of the night.

After that, the two of them just kind of stuck around each other, even becoming roommates the next year.

Louis noticed that his computer was ready to go now, so he got to work.

He’d already started Googling nearby school districts in the last few days before graduation, so he started with those ones first.

He lucked out, and a lot of the districts within thirty minutes of his house had open positions, so he started typing up short answers to the open-ended questions on each application.

By the sixth one he filled out, he’d started to get annoyed.

He hated answering questions about himself:  _Describe your strengths and weaknesses. What has been the biggest obstacle you’ve overcome? Where do you see yourself in ten years?_

He felt like these were things he could best answer face to face, not to his computer screen.

It was frustrating, especially since writing essays was never his best skill. If he had to write a story, he could go on and on all day. But essays? Forming thoughts and organizing sentences to explain why he thought the way he thought? Nah.

It was hours later when he finally called it quits.

“Louis! Lunch!”

He looked toward the door as his sister’s voice called out to him.

He hadn’t realized it was already early afternoon, meaning his family had just returned from church.

He saved everything he had written and exited the websites. He would get back to them later.

Once he was sure everything was closed out, Louis grabbed his breakfast plate and headed toward the kitchen.

He walked in to find his mom and his sisters sitting around the table with their hands joined and heads bowed while Jay blessed the food.

Louis stopped where he was and waited until she was done the prayer before moving further into the room to deposit his dirty dish in the sink.

“Are you hungry, Louis?” his mom asked.

“Very. What are we having?”

“Chicken parm sandwiches. Cooked by Liam’s mom, so you know it’ll be good.”

Louis nodded and fixed himself a plate.

He sat down next to Fizzy, avoiding the seat at the head of the table, where his dad would usually sit.

“So, Louis, what do you have planned for tonight?” his mom asked.

“Applying for jobs,” Louis shrugged. “Nothing too interesting.”

“Of course it’s interesting. You’ll have a job before you know it.”

“Hopefully.”

“No hopefully. Definitely. I’m proud of you for that: not waiting around, hoping a job will just fall into your lap.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“And I know your dad is looking down on you from heaven right now, just as proud as I am.”

Louis just nodded.

\---

The next night, he went back to Cadogan’s. This time, Liam went with him.

“So how are you?” Liam asked as they walked.

“I’m all right,” Louis replied. “Just, taking it one day at a time, you know?”

“Yeah. I think that’s how you’ll get through it, to be honest. How are the girls?”

“They’re OK, too. I haven’t heard any of them crying in the middle of the night like I have been, so I guess that’s an improvement? They’re going back to school tomorrow, so that’s a good sign.”

“It is,” Liam agreed. “I mean, your sisters definitely would’ve fought your mom if they wanted to stay home another day.”

“And she would’ve let them; you know that.”

“Of course I know that. I’ve helped you babysit before. I've even watched the twins on my own before; I know how persuasive they are when they really want something.”

Louis laughed. “Remember that time they convinced us to let them keep that stray cat for the night?”

“I mostly remember being itchy the next day and not knowing why.”

“I didn’t know it had fleas!”

Liam laughed at the memory.

“Besides, you could’ve said no, too, Liam.”

“It wasn’t my house. It wasn’t my responsibility as much as it was yours.”

“Oh, fuck you, dude. You could’ve helped me out there.”

“Could’ve. Should’ve. But I didn’t.”

“Jerk.”

Liam shrugged. “Whatever. It’s funny now.”

“Yeah, like three years later.”

“Was it really three years ago?” Liam wondered as they approached the bar.

“Yeah. Dad was going through chemo again. Remember? He was staying in the hospital at the time, and mom was still working overnights. That’s why we were babysitting in the first place.”

Liam looked over at his friend sadly, not meaning to put a damper on the light-hearted conversation.

“Tommo,” Liam tried to console.

“No, it’s OK.”

“It’s really not.”

Liam slipped an arm around Louis' waist as they walked in. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.”

“Payne!”

They looked over and saw a booth filled with some of Liam’s work buddies.

Liam led Louis over and introduced him to the two men he didn’t know. The other four men had gone to high school with Louis and Liam.

“How ya been, Tommo?” one of the guys, Andy, asked him.

“Good, good. All graduated from school, and just hanging out right now.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about your dad, man,” Luke apologized. “We loved him around this town.”

“Thanks, Luke,” Louis nodded.

Liam tightened his grip around Louis.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Ashton raised his eyebrows at Liam’s movement. “Something you want to tell us?”

Liam laughed. “What? I can’t hug my best friend when I feel like it?”

Louis responded by resting his head on Liam’s shoulder.

“Thought I was your best friend?” Andy pouted.

“Nah, you’re too much of an idiot,” Luke joked.

“Easy, boys,” Liam held out a hand. “You guys are my family. You know that.”

“Only cuz we’re together too damn much to be anything else,” Michael joked.

“Yeah, I’ve seen some things…” Liam shook his head, causing all of them to laugh.

“Anyway, we’re gonna get to the bar and order some drinks, but we’ll see you around,” Liam bid his co-workers farewell, and he and Louis left the table.

It was a little more crowded tonight, because there was a beer pong tournament going on, but they were still able to find two chairs next to each other at the bar.

“Hey, what can I get you guys?”

Louis looked up to see Harry quietly placing napkins in front of both men.

“Hey, Harry, how you doing?” Louis greeted easily.

“Doing OK,” Harry answered. “Um, you want a Corona?”

“Yeah, that’s good. Liam, what about you?”

“Sure, can’t go wrong with a Corona,” Liam responded, scratching at his side.

Harry gave them a tight smile before walking off to get their drinks.

 _That was weird,_ Louis thought to himself. This was a complete 180 from the Harry he’d met the other night.

When Harry returned with two glass bottles, Louis asked him what was up.

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head lightly.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Um, sorry, man, I’m Harry. I’ve seen you around, but I don’t think we’ve ever really met.”

He reached a hand out to Liam, who shook it firmly.

“Nice to meet you; I’m Liam.”

“Good to meet you, too. Um, I’ll be back to check on you guys in a minute, all right?”

Louis and Liam nod, letting Harry get back to his job.

Louis shrugged it off. Maybe he’d just caught Harry on a bad night.

“So what are you up to this week?” Louis asked his friend.

“Well, it’s my dad’s birthday on Thursday, so we’ll do something that night. Besides that, I got nothing but work Wednesday and Saturday. Why? What are you thinking?”

“I really wasn’t thinking anything, but we should do something: go see a movie or, go bowling or, I don’t know. Something.”

“Trying to get out of the house?” Liam prompted. 

“Maybe.”

“Fair enough. All right, we’ll figure out something. If worse comes to worse, you can just come chill at my place. My parents would love to see you.”

“Works for me.”

\---

On Thursday, Louis sat in his car in the cemetery parking lot, willing himself to open the door. 

He'd just driven there, with every intention of getting out and going to talk to his dad. 

The rest of his family had already been by to visit, but Louis had held back, a long list of excuses preventing him from making the short drive to the outskirts of town.

Lottie had told him that it would help; that it would make him feel better to just go sit by his father’s grave stone, even if it was just for a few minutes. Louis thought that he'd been doing fine with getting past his father's death. He hadn't cried while he was awake since the funeral; instead, he saved his tears for the occasional bad dream he had while he slept. 

Lottie argued that wasn't healthy, and he had to do something to let his emotions out. 

So Louis figured he would try coming to the cemetery, but now, he couldn’t remember why. It wasn’t like his dad would be able to hear him.

It wasn’t like his dad was hurting and needed reassurance that everything would be OK.

Shaking his head, he put the key back into the ignition and drove home, trying not to focus on the voice in the back of his head that was calling him a coward. 

After he walked back through his front door, he sat down on his bed, feeling himself start to fill up with restless energy. He wanted to do something today. His goal had been to go to the cemetery, but since he didn't even leave the car, he considered that a wash.  

So he decided to go for a run.

He’d been home for two weeks already and hadn’t done any form of physical activity whatsoever.

If his soccer coach could see him now…

He knew Liam was off today, so he texted him 'asking' if he wanted to join.

**_Louis: Get up. We’re going running._ **

**_Liam: why_ **

**_Louis: Because I’m bored._ **

**_Liam: ur not a bored runner_ **

**_Louis: Come onnnnnnn!_ **

**_Liam: no im tired_ **

**_Louis: I’ll let you pick the route._ **

**_Liam: no_ **

**_Louis: Fine. Guess I’ll stay in the house all by myself. I hope I don’t cry today._ **

**_Liam: … b ready in 10_ **

Louis grinned to himself in silent victory.

He plugged in his iPod so it could charge during the ten minutes it took him to actually get ready, hoping the battery would last long enough for however long they ran.

Usually he did five miles; today, he’d probably go until the iPod died. Or until Liam killed him.

Whichever came first.

He laced up his sneakers and left his empty house.

He stood in the middle of the street between his and Liam’s house.

At this point of the day, everybody, including his own family, was at work or school, so there were sure to be no cars coming to run him over.

Not like a car wouldn’t just go around him if it did come down the street, anyway.  

Liam walked out of his house and up to Louis.

“Ready?” Liam asked.

Louis just nodded and put his headphones in.

They did some warm-ups down the sidewalk first; just some basic lunges, hops and side-shuffles.

After a few minutes, they started running for real.

They ran down their street, heading further into town.

They passed the elementary school, and it brought back instant memories for Louis.

He noticed the empty, grassy area on the side. He wondered if that might be where they would extend the school if they wound up adding more rooms.

They turned left, away from the school and toward the park.

After running by the fountain in the center of town, they reached the first set of swings and slides.

There were a few parents with young children occupying the playground areas, with some of the town’s beloved grandparents sitting on the benches by the pond.

They looped back toward the pub, and, as they rounded the corner, nearly collided with Harry as he unloaded a delivery off a truck.

“Whoa!” Louis exclaimed, catching himself just before knocking the younger man over.

“Shit, I’m so sor- Louis. Hi.”

Harry's whole face seemed to light up as he smiled at him from behind the crate of beer he held in his hands.

“Hey, Harry,” Louis grinned. He took one ear bud out. “Sorry we almost ran into you.”

Harry looked over at Liam, then, just noticing him.

“No, it was my fault,” Harry apologized as his smile slightly faltered. “I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

“Agree to disagree?”

Harry nodded. “Sure. So you guys are just out for a run, then?”

“Yeah,” Louis confirmed. “Taking advantage before it starts getting too hot out, you know?”

“Yeah. That’s nice that you guys do stuff like that together. Good for the relationship, I’m sure.”

“I guess. I mean, we’ve never needed help with that before. We’ve known each other since, what did I say the other night, Li? Since we were eight?”

“Yup, since we were eight," Liam confirmed. "When you moved in across the street.”

“Yeah,” Louis agreed. “My second sister was just born. Lived there ever since.”

“Oh, right. On, uh, Wilkes Street, right?”

“That’s right.”

“And you live across the street from each other?” Harry awed. “That’s so cute.”

Louis scrunched his face up. “I don’t think ‘cute’ is the right word for it. More like ‘convenient.’”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up a little at that, and his lips parted like he was going to say something, but he seemed to change his mind about what.

“Right,” he stated instead.

Louis just nodded.

“Anyway… Um, I’ll let you two get back to your run. Don’t want your heart rate to slow down or whatever.”

“Thanks, man; appreciate it.”

Louis clapped Harry on the shoulder and turned to Liam. “Ready?”

Liam just nodded and gave Harry a small wave before the two of them jogged off.

\---

Louis was sitting on the warm grass a week later, staring anywhere but in front of him.

Behind him, he could hear cars and trucks passing by as they moved on to their destinations.

There was a slight breeze blowing his hair around while he picked at a loose strand on the bottom of his shorts.

Beyond the fences, he could hear noise from the park down the street and the everyday lives of people continuing on.

While all this was happening, he was sitting at his father’s grave at the cemetery, pretending to be OK.

“Hey, Dad,” he greeted slowly.

He felt like an idiot.

He was literally sitting in the middle of a cemetery, by himself, talking to his dead dad.

Well, he used the word 'talking' very loosely. He'd said two words so far, and was struggling to come up with more.

At least he'd managed to get out of the car this time. 

Louis opened his mouth, willing himself to say something, but nothing came out. He shut it again and looked around, seeing that there weren’t many other people around.

There was a grieving older woman at a grave a few rows away from him. Her son had his arm around her waist as she sobbed.

Louis assumed that family had lost its patriarch, as well.

Closer to the center of the cemetery was a young woman placing flowers down on top of another stone.

Louis watched as her mouth moved, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying.

He wasn’t sure to whom she was saying goodbye. She placed her fingers to her lips, kissing them, and then placed her fingers down next to her flowers.

She left a few minutes later.

He looked back in front of him and decided he was ready to leave.

 _This is stupid,_ he thought to himself.

He got up and brushed off the back of his shorts.

He quickly made his way to his car and jumped in, headed for home.

\---

They went back to Cadogan's the next night. 

Since his failed attempt at the cemetery the day before, Louis had applied for seven more jobs, and hadn't heard anything from the schools he'd already applied to. 

“Don’t worry, Louis,” his mom had said. “Just let go and let God lead you down the right path. He hasn’t found the right school for you, but He will.”

He wanted to scream back at her, “the principals and superintendents decide if they want to call me or not. It’s not God’s doing because He’s not real!”

But he didn’t. Instead, he just stiffly smiled at his mother and kissed her on her cheek.

So that night, he and Liam found themselves back at the bar, watching a particularly interesting baseball game, and- OK, Louis couldn’t even finish that thought because his dad's team wasn't playing and he  _really_  didn’t care about baseball.

“Tommo!”

Louis tore his gaze away from the screen to find Zayn walking toward him with his arms spread wide.

“Zaynie!” Louis exclaimed, hugging his friend. “How goes it?”

“It goes great, man. It’s about time you came to visit me. I was starting to think you forgot I worked here.”

“I’ve been here, but you haven’t.”

“You’ve just been coming on the wrong nights,” Zayn rolled his eyes. “I’m always here. Anyway, you guys want Blue Moon? It’s on special.”

“Sounds good,” they nodded.

After Zayn got them their drinks, he said, “Lou, I heard about your dad. I’m sorry, man.”

“Thanks. It’s OK. You know, he was really sick and in a lot of pain, so I’m just glad he’s not hurting any more.”

Once he finished talking, he had to mentally take a step back. He sounded like his mother, just without a reference to how his dad was now taking a spot next to Jesus up in Heaven.

Zayn acknowledged his feelings with a bob of his head. “That’s a good way to think, Louis. Your dad had a good life, despite being sick. He was a good guy, too. We miss him around town.”

“Thanks, Zayn.”

“You’re welcome. So what’s next for you, Mr. College Man?”

Louis shrugged. “Doing what I can, but who knows? No interviews yet, but I’m still trying.”

“You want to stay local?”

“Oh, of course. I could never leave here.”

“You could never leave me, you mean,” Liam insisted.

“Of course not, Liam,” Louis cooed, reaching over to pinch his friend’s cheek. “You’re too adorable for that. Plus, you actually put up with my shit on a consistent basis.”

“Remind me what I do that?” Liam asked Zayn.

The bartender just shrugged.

\---

At the end of June, Louis was on another run.

He’d needed to get out of the house again.

His mom was off from work today, and was taking the time to go through some of his dad’s stuff.

It had seemed like a good idea, but then she wanted to get rid of his dad’s sweater, and he just lost it.

He said some things.

She looked disappointed.

And Louis bolted. He just got changed and left without another word.

Now he was running through town like a man on fire.

He pushed himself to go faster, his feet only touching the pavement long enough to shoot him forward again.

Louis passed by the grocery store, the movie theater and the hardware store without sparing them a second glance. His only concern was not running into anyone.

He was just so  _mad._

He had actually been doing all right with the whole ‘moving on’ thing, and then his mom had to pull out the box of Mark’s clothes.

And she’d done it so easily, because once again, she wasn’t letting herself feel anything.

And Louis was tired of feeling like he was the only one who still missed his dad. He was especially tired of waiting to get some kind of biblical response whenever he mentioned him in front of his mother.

He wasn’t even watching where he was going, just knew that he was moving.

He should’ve been watching the pavement, though, because once his foot caught on one uneven piece of it, he went flying.

This time, it was down instead of forward.

“Fuck,” he loudly swore as he felt his hands and knee grate against the rough sidewalk.

He shifted into a sitting position so he could inspect the damage.

His palms were scratched up, which wasn’t a surprise.

But the skin over his kneecap was definitely broken, made apparent by the thin lines of blood starting to peek out between the cuts.

He winced at the sight. He hadn’t felt the pain on impact, but now that he was looking right at it, he couldn’t deny it hurt.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself. He tried to bend his scratched knee, letting out a whimper at the pain.

He sat there for a moment, willing himself to get up and head home.

Instead of doing that, though, he just let himself cry.

The emotions from the confrontation with his mom earlier were catching up with him now that his adrenaline wasn’t running as quickly as it had been, and the physical pain from his knee was taking its toll more than it should have.

The first tear fell from his eye and down his cheek. Before he could even think to wipe it away, more were coming.

Before he knew it, he had completely fallen apart.

He dropped his head into his hands and just let the tears come as they wanted to. He couldn’t hold them in anymore, and frankly, it was time that he stopped trying to.

As his breathing got more ragged and his shoulders started shaking with sobs, he felt the weight of the situation overtaking him.

It had been about six weeks since his father had passed away, and it had taken him until now to realize the enormity of it all.

His father was gone and never coming back. Never again would he hug Louis when he felt sad, cheer him on at soccer games or... wear ugly sweaters. 

Louis had spent so much time being angry that he hadn't really felt sad. He'd been angry at his mom for her way of approaching the whole situation, angry at his sisters for moving on and leaving him to feel like the sole griever of the household and angry at his father for leaving him at a time when Louis wanted to depend on him. 

Mostly, though, he was angry at himself for not allowing all of his emotions to shine through, and letting everything build up until he exploded. 

He settled his head on his good knee - the one that wasn’t all sliced up - and struggled to breathe.

“Louis! Louis, what happened?”

He turned his head slightly to see somebody hurrying over to his crumpled form.

He slowly blinked once, twice before realizing it was Harry.

“Hey, I heard you crying,” Harry said, kneeling down next to him. “Are you all right? What happened?”

Louis looked deep into Harry’s eyes, unsurprised to find genuine concern and compassion in them.

Louis didn’t want to cry anymore, especially not in front of someone else, but it looked like he was beyond that point.

His nostrils started flaring slightly as he tried to hold back, but he only succeeded in keeping his tears locked down for a few more seconds.

And then he was crying again, and Harry didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Louis and hold on tightly.

Louis rested his forehead against Harry’s shoulder as his emotions engulfed him once more.

"Shh, it's OK," Harry whispered, attempting to console him. "It's OK."

In retrospect, he and Harry probably painted a strange picture. He was sitting on the ground, sweaty with a tear-stained face, while Harry was on his knees next to him, holding him closely and rocking him back and forth.

The strange part about it would be that it was a beautiful summer day, in a picturesque little town on the East Coast.

If his town were a postcard, it would appear that anybody living there would have no worries.

In real life, it was anything but.

Louis didn’t know how long the two of them sat there, but he did know that there was much more of a breeze by the time he finally stopped crying.

He stilled, understanding that his last tear had been released, but now he was tired. He didn’t feel like he had any energy in his body left to do anything other than go to sleep.

He knew that didn’t make sense; maybe that showed how rattled his brain really was.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Harry mumbled into Louis’ ear.

Harry pulled back slightly and Louis checked his surroundings.

He hadn’t realized just where exactly he had run.

Without even thinking about it, he had reached the edge of town, where the bigger apartment complex was.

There were two smaller developments in town, close to the town square, but these apartments were less expensive, and marketed more toward single people with roommates.

He should’ve known he’d find a cute bartender living out there.

Louis didn’t have the strength to refuse, so he just nodded and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

Harry kept an arm around his waist and escorted him into the first building on the right.

The two of them walked up a flight of stairs to the second floor. Harry unlocked the door that read ‘2A.’

Louis looked around the living room as they entered.

These apartments weren’t known for being spacious, but Louis was impressed with what Harry had done with the place.

The room had the standard white walls with beige carpet, but he liked the black sofa and entertainment console that held a decent size television.

There were dark blue tieback curtains dressing the windows and quite a few paint spattered canvases hanging on the walls.

He felt himself being moved down a hallway, though, presumably to the bathroom.

Sure enough, he found himself being sat down on the edge of a tub.

Harry was rifling through his medicine cabinet.

“I don’t really have much,” Harry apologized. “To clean your knee with, I mean.”

“It’s OK.”

“I swear I’m usually more prepared than this.”

“Prepared for what?” Louis asked. “An emotional townie to lose his shit outside of your apartment building?”

Harry gave him a small smile before turning on the tap to let the water get warm.

“About that. Did you want to talk about it? I mean, I know my people skills still need work, but I’m pretty sure there’s something bothering you.”

Louis felt the corners of his mouth turn up slightly, but his face remained otherwise blank.

“Again, you don’t have to tell me.”

But once again, Louis  _wanted_ to tell Harry what was wrong.

It was like the first night that he’d met Harry: the night of the funeral.

Harry had those kind eyes and Louis wanted to bare his soul to him.

Harry had proven to be a good listener before; maybe he would be this time, too.

“It’s about my dad again,” Louis started. “I know. Shocker, right?”

Harry didn’t say anything. He just wet a clean washcloth and pumped some soap over it.

“It’s just… I’ve gone a couple of days without thinking about my dad. I don’t know if that’s a good sign or not, but it is what it is.”

He hissed when Harry pressed the towel against his knee.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized quietly.

Louis shook off the pain. He’d felt worse.

“Well, my mom was off today, and she pulled some boxes of my dad’s clothes down from the attic. And, in one of them was this ugly old sweater that my dad used to wear. Seriously, this thing is hideous. It’s this weird green color and it’s got an orange stripe across it, and the sleeves were never long enough for his arms…”

Louis smiled to himself at the memory of his father wearing that sweater. He could still picture the man sitting on the couch in it, his wrists exposed to the cold.

“Her plan was to wash a bunch of his stuff and donate it. I mean, we don’t need any of it. All of the sweaters and jeans and T-shirts that he had left over could go to someone else. But, I couldn’t let her give away this sweater, and we kind of got into an argument over it.”

_“Mom, you can’t get rid of this one,” Louis snatched the green and orange sweater out of his mom’s hands._

_“Why?” Jay wondered, her brow furrowed. “Don’t tell me you actually want to wear that?”_

_“Well no, but-“_

_“Then let me have it back. I’ll wash it, and surely someone else can use it.”_

_“No!”_

_“Louis, are you serious? I’m sure I could find you something much nicer in all of your father’s stuff.”_

_“No, I want this one,” Louis protested._

_“You’re not even going to wear it. It’s just going to sit in your closet and collect dust.”_

_“I don’t care.”_

_“That’s awfully selfish of you, don’t you think?”_

_“I still don’t care.”_

_“Louis-“_

_“Oh, my God! Fucking leave me alone about this damn sweater. I’m keeping it. Get over it.”_

_Jay stared at Louis, her mouth slightly agape. “Louis…”_

_“Shit. I mean, not that," he sighed. "Mom, I’m-“_

_“Your father and I raised you better than to swear at your mother. He wouldn’t be very pleased to hear you talking this way.”_

_“Yeah, well we’ll never know for sure, will we? It’s not like he can tell us what he’s thinking right now.”_

_“Louis!”_

_“What? What did I say that’s so wrong? What, did I bring up the fact that he’s dead? And that he’s never coming back? To be honest, Dad wouldn’t give a damn if I kept this sweater or another one, and you know it. Just let me have it. If this is how I want to remember my fucking father, then that’s how I’ll remember him. Just back off!”_

“And then she left the room,” Louis concluded his story. “But before she did, she gave me one of ‘those looks.’ Like, it was just filled with hurt and disappointment. And I was pissed that I made my mom feel like that, so I got changed and grabbed my iPod, and now here I am.”

Harry remained quiet throughout the story, but was now lightly holding the washcloth against Louis’ knee.

There wasn’t even any pressure behind it anymore. It was just giving his hands something else to do.

“Wow,” he muttered.

“I know,” Louis nodded, running his fingers through his sweaty hair. “I thought things were getting less tense in my house. I mean, my sisters don’t have hour-long ice cream binges while watching old home movies any more. And, I haven’t woken up crying in a while.”

“You wake up crying?”

“It’s nothing. The point is: we were getting better. And then this happened today, and I already know I have to go apologize to my mom for being an asshole. She didn’t deserve for me to blow up at her. Just for future reference, I’m not that good at talking about my feelings.”

“You’re doing an OK job now,” Harry complimented.

“Thanks.”

Harry got a new washcloth and pressed it against Louis’ knee to make sure it was dry.

After he checked to see if the bleeding had stopped, he looked up at Louis and started to say something, but Louis cut him off.

“I can’t even talk to my dad’s grave,” he admitted.

“What?”

“I go to my dad’s grave sometimes, because my sister said it would help with the grieving process, you know? Like, go and talk to him like he’s still here. Tell him about my day, and just update him on what’s going on. But I can’t do it. I go, and then I just sit there. I can’t even talk. Like, there could be other people around me, saying all kinds of things to the people they love, and I just…  _can’t._ Like, he can’t hear me, so what’s left to say?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe it’s just meant to be a kind of closure? I mean, yeah, you had a funeral where you could say goodbye, but did you actually have a real last conversation with him?”

Louis shook his head.

“Maybe that’s why it helps? You get to say all the things you didn’t get a chance to say?”

“I guess so.”

“Listen, I’ve never lost a parent, so I have no idea what’s going through your head. But you’re a good person, Louis. I’ve only known you for a month, but I already see that.”

Louis shrugged. “I’m all right.”

“More than all right.”

Louis glanced up to meet Harry’s eyes, only to find them nervously avoiding his own.

He stayed staring, though, waiting until Harry’s gold-speckled green eyes were aimed in Louis’ direction again.

When their eyes met, Louis could've sworn he heard a hitch in Harry's breathing. 

Louis' gaze dropped down to Harry's perfect, pink lips for just a second, returning to Harry's eyes, which Louis was sure had widened substantially since he'd last looked. 

Harry's casual hold on Louis' good leg became a light grip as he swiped his thumb across Louis' unhurt knee cap. 

And then suddenly, the visual of Harry on his knees in front of Louis became too much for the older man. 

Louis pulled his lower lip in between his teeth and looked down at his lap.

“Um…”

“I should get home,” Louis spoke quietly.

The cuts had stopped bleeding and he wasn’t crying anymore.

He didn’t need to be in Harry’s apartment any longer.

“Okay,” Harry nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

Louis rolled up onto his feet, and Harry followed the motion.

He slid past the bartender, careful not to make any more contact.

“Do you want a ride?” Harry offered as he followed him out of his apartment. “Your knee’s probably killing you.”

“No, it’s fine. I should walk. It’ll be good to have some time to figure out what to say to my mom.”

“Right. OK.”

“So, I’ll see you around, then?”

“Yeah, definitely. I work tomorrow, but then I’m off the next few nights, so I’ll probably see you for the fireworks this weekend.”

“Can’t believe it’s Fourth of July already,” Louis stated.

“Me, either.”

“Well,” Louis said, grabbing onto the door handle, “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah. I’ll be around.”

Louis gave one last smile before exiting the apartment.

Once he descended the flight of stairs, he leaned against the wall.

“Idiot,” he muttered to himself.

He slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand, retracting it quickly when it stung.

He'd forgotten all about his scraped up hands in his haste to get out of the apartment and away from Harry.

He considered going up the stairs and at least washing them before he left, but he figured he’d bothered the other man enough already.

He walked home as quickly as he could, coming up with some form of apology with each step.

_Mom, I’m sorry I’m such a stupid prick._

Louis shook his head. That wouldn’t work.

_Mom, I’m sorry I made you cry, because I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to properly express his feelings._

Nah, that wouldn’t work, either.

_Mom, I’m sorry I yelled at you and swore at you. That wasn’t right and it wasn’t OK._

He nodded, knowing he was getting closer.

_It’s just, I don’t ask for a lot, and I just want to keep this sweater from Dad. Just this one. So, please, let me have it?_

He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t apologize for much, as he usually was considerate enough to not do anything to ever have to apologize for.

Eventually, he got to his house, and realized that his sisters were all home from school now.

He walked in, and said hello to the twins, who were watching television in the living room.

He heard some noise coming from the basement and went downstairs to check on it.

He followed the sounds into the laundry room to find his mom putting some clothes into the dryer.

She didn’t notice him come in, and pulled his dad’s ugly sweater out of the washing machine.

She hung the sweater up to dry, and Louis smiled, because he remembered how much his dad would complain if his sweaters ever went in the dryer, because they would shrink.

He knocked at the door to the room, and waited for his mom to say something.

Instead, she just watched him carefully.

He opened his mouth to say his finely worded apology, but nothing came out.

Instead, he just started bawling. Again.

Jay’s face crumpled up, as well, and she rushed forward to embrace her only son.

“It’s OK,” she soothed. “It’s OK.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried out. “Mom…”

“I know you are. I know.”

She held him tightly, stroking the back of his head while he wept.

“I washed the sweater for you,” she spoke quietly.

“Thank you.”

“Who knows? Maybe it’ll be long enough to cover your wrists.”

Louis snorted with laughter.

He pulled back to look at his mom, who had a teary smile on her face.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too. Don’t ever test me like that again, though. Next time you swear at me, it's World War 3.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

\---

After talking about his dad’s grave yesterday, Louis decided to visit again and actually try to say something.

He took a deep breath before getting out of the car.

As he shut the door behind him, he saw Harry walking toward his own car.

“Hey,” he greeted lightly.

“Hey, back,” Harry smiled.

“I didn’t know you um, had someone here.”

“Um, yeah,” Harry nodded. “Just dropping off flowers.”

“Got it.” Louis didn’t want to press for details.

He hadn’t known until just now that Harry had lost someone and that someone was buried in the same cemetery as Louis’ own dad.

He didn’t want to push him to find out who it was if Harry clearly wasn’t up for talking about it.

“Um, I’m gonna try to talk to my dad today,” he said instead.

“That’s great, Louis,” Harry beamed. “What are you gonna say?”

“I don’t know, really. I hadn’t really planned anything.”

“Well, you’re still here. And that counts.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I hate to say this, but I have to go. I have to get ready for work.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. I’ll see you around.”

“See you. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Louis walked toward his father’s gravestone, his head held high.

But as he neared it, he noticed something different about it from the last time he was there.

There was a small bouquet of yellow flowers sitting atop it, petals blowing lightly in the breeze.

“What the fuck?” Louis swore. He picked up the flowers and smelled them.

They smelled fresh, meaning someone had just been there to lay them.

He placed them back down and wondered who had put them there.

He knew that his mom or his sisters hadn’t been here today or in the past day or so.

Louis realized it must’ve been someone else.

But who?

He started to wonder if that person had been able to talk to his dad.

He knelt down and speculated about what they had discussed. The weather? Sports? Religion?

He was curious if the mysterious flower-leaver talked about Louis or Jay or any of his sisters.

Did that person have a smile on his or her face?

Had they been there before?

Had they left flowers before and Louis didn’t know about it?

He looked around, feeling like he was being watched. He didn’t see anybody around him, though, and knew he was being ridiculous.

Regardless, he felt like he needed to go home.

Someone had just been there and probably said a million things better than Louis had planned on saying to his dad.

He felt very insignificant.

He placed the flowers back where they were and turned around. He got in his car and drove home.

Maybe he would try again next week.

\---

Niall came down that weekend to visit for the Fourth of July.

“I swear, every time I come down here, this town gets smaller and smaller,” Niall announced as he walked up to Louis’ front door. “Jesus Christ, if I had driven any faster, I would’ve gone right out of this small-ass town. I’ll never understand how you fucking live like this.”

“Um,” Louis made a slashing motion near his throat, hoping Niall would shut up.

“What?”

He heard a throat clearing somewhere in the house.

Louis pressed his lips together and opened the door wider.

Niall looked in and saw Louis’ mom standing near the kitchen door, stiffly smiling at him.

No doubt she had heard everything he’d just said.

Niall remembered just how much Louis' mother hated swearing. And God forbid he used the Lord’s name in vain.

Literally. 

He still remembered the first time he came down to visit Louis, the summer after their freshman year.

He’d accidentally yelled out “Jesus fucking Christ!” after slicing his finger on some scissors while trying to open the tough plastic covering a  _new_ pair of scissors.

Seriously, though, why did companies do that? Make it so you need a pair of scissors to open up more scissors?

Anyway, the look that Louis’ parents had given him made Niall feel like they wanted to give him a baptism.

Or crucify him.

Jesus, he couldn’t stop.

“Hi, Mrs. Tomlinson!” he called weakly.

“Hi, Niall. Good to see you again,” Jay smiled. “How has your summer been?”

“Good,” he said slowly. He had to concentrate on keeping his language in check, which, for him, was no easy task.

“Glad to hear it. Well, I’ll be in the kitchen. Let me know if you boys need anything.”

“Will do, Mom,” Louis said. “Thanks.”

She turned around and walked off, leaving the boys alone.

“She’s not going to kick me out, is she?” Niall honestly wondered. “Fuck, I’m gonna sleep on a park bench tonight, aren’t I?”

“Of course not; she knows how you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means,” Louis laughed. “Come on; let’s put your stuff in my room.”

A few hours later, the two of them made their way down to the town square for fireworks.

The whole town was essentially shut down, only emergency buildings remaining open.

“Gentlemen,” Louis greeted Liam and the others on duty for the celebration. “How goes it?”

“Hi, Louis,” Liam smiled. “Hey, Niall, good to see you again.”

“You, too, Mr. Fireman, sir,” Niall saluted.

“Niall, you don’t have to salute us; we’re not military men.”

“It still feels appropriate,” the blonde commented. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in full uniform, Liam.”

“You usually come down on a weekend when I’m not working. But there’s going to be fire and lots of civilians involved. Of course I’m working today.”

“You off tomorrow?”

Liam nodded. “And the day after.”

“Good. I already made Louis promise we’ll get fish bowls.”

“You’re trying to kill my liver, aren’t you?”

“Come on! Please! I’m never down here. And besides, you owe me!”

“For what?”

“For keeping Louis safe while we were up at school,” Niall rolled his eyes as if that were obvious.

“I didn’t ask you to do that. You took that on all on your own.”

“Um, thanks,” Louis said.

“You know what I mean,” Liam told him. “But fine. Drinks tomorrow. Let’s say 9?”

“Sounds good! Come on, Louis; let’s go get a good seat.”

Louis nodded and they said goodbye to Liam.

As they walked closer to the pond, Louis saw Lottie and Fizzy with their respective groups of friends.

His mom stood with a few other moms while Daisy and Phoebe were talking with their friends.

And then he saw Zayn and Harry, sitting on a wooden park table just a few feet away.

He grabbed Niall’s arm and led him over.

“Hello, boys,” Louis called out.

The two of them turned toward the greeting and grinned.

“Tommo!” Zayn exclaimed. He gave the other man a quick hug before turning to Niall.

“Hey, Fisherman. You coming around the bar again?”

“Of course; wouldn’t miss it.”

“You plan on losing your shirt again?”

Niall fake-laughed before sitting on the table next to Zayn.

“Fisherman?” Harry asked Louis.

“Long story short,” Louis abridged, “last year, Niall came down to visit and got a fish bowl. He got super drunk, called himself the Great Fisherman of Forrest Hill, took his shirt off, flexed his ‘muscles’ and challenged anyone who dared to take his title.”

“And then I had some fries and I was totally fine,” Niall shrugged at the memory.

“Meanwhile, I woke up the next morning with the hangover,” Louis concluded his story with an eye roll. “The Irishman’s not real; I’m telling you.”

Niall just smiled and got comfortable, ready to watch the fireworks.

Louis sat up on the table between Zayn and Harry, who had moved over to make room.

Zayn and Niall started talking about something or other, and Louis took the time to talk to Harry.

“Hey, about the other day,” Louis started, “I never got to say-“

“You don’t have to-“ Harry tried to interrupt.

“Thank you,” Louis finished. “You didn’t have to listen to me, but you did, and that was really nice of you.”

“It’s OK. Really. I told you before; I’m a good listener. I just wanted to help.”

“You don’t even know me, though,” Louis smiled. “Not really, anyway.”

Harry said something then, but the first firework shooting into the air drowned it out.

“Wait,” Louis asked after glancing up at the sky. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Then he focused his attention on the night sky, which bright colors were currently lighting up.

It wasn’t until Louis was getting ready for bed that night that he realized what Harry said.

_Maybe I want to._

\---

“To kicking ass!” Niall started.

“And taking names!” Louis finished.

The two of them carefully lifted up their fish bowls and tapped them together before taking long sips.

“So, Niall, how long you hanging out down here?” Liam wondered as he drank his beer.

“Until you get a fish bowl with us,” Niall retorted.

“No, thanks. Besides, someone has to stay sober enough to take care of you boys.”

“Zayn can do it,” Louis shrugged.

“I’m  _working,_ ” Zayn cut in as he walked by, getting a new drink for a customer.

“You can still watch out for us,” Louis called.

“Yeah, what kind of friend are you?” Niall pouted.

“The kind who had your drinks ready for you the second you got in this bar.”

“Oh, right.”

“Right,” Zayn smirked. He walked past them again, passing off the cocktail and collecting some money for it.

“But to actually answer your earlier question,” Niall stated after taking a long drink, “I’m leaving the day after tomorrow. So you have the honor of my presence for one more full day.”

“And I’m sure Lou’s mom can’t wait for you to leave, either.”

“Lou’s mom loves me.”

“You have any slip ups, yet?”

“Only what he said yesterday when he got here,” Louis replied. “Said he didn’t get how we fucking lived in this small ass town. And he may have thrown a Jesus Christ in there, too.”

Liam let out a loud laugh at the information. “She’s planning the best way to get you to church tomorrow. I’ll put money on it.”

“Yeah, well I hate to disappoint, but I plan on sleeping right up until the second we leave for the beach in the morning. No church for me.”

“Cheers,” Louis enthused, drinking more from his bowl.

“Payne!”

The three men saw some of Liam’s coworkers just walking in the door.

“I’ll be right back.” Liam excused himself to go talk to them.

The boys nodded and continued drinking.

Louis heard a door loudly open near the back, and he looked to see Harry coming up from the basement, carrying a new crate of beer.

Louis waited until the other man put down what he was carrying before greeting him.

“Hi!”

Harry turned at the voice and smiled at Louis. “Hey! How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to have a fish bowl and already take some sips of it; that’s how long.”

“I was only gone a few minutes,” Harry said confusedly.

“I may have texted Zayn that we were on the way,” Louis confessed.

Harry looked at him with admiration. “You know how to get shit done, don’t you?”

“Absolutely. There’s perks to knowing the bartender, you know.”

“Is there, really?" Harry asked. He smiled at Louis again before resting his forearms on the bar. "I had no idea.”

“Of course there is. Drinks ready on arrival, beers replaced almost immediately, free shots from time to time. It works out.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind the next time I come in and I’m not working. Free shots, you say?”

"Yeah, free shots. Sometimes it's Jameson. Other times, it's alcohol you actually like."

The two of them laughed together like it was a secret they were keeping from the outside world. 

And then it was over. 

“Oi, Tommo! If you’re done flirting over there, want to order food?”

Louis’ mouth dropped slightly as he looked over at Niall, who’d not so subtly called over to him.

“We weren’t-“ Louis tried to deny. He looked over at Harry, who was now busying himself with getting them menus.

“Here you go,” Harry said, giving one to each of the boys at the bar, as well as leaving one for Liam, who was on his way back.

“Thanks,” Niall replied as he started to browse.

Louis looked over at Zayn, who was giving him a knowing smile.

“Oh, good, I’m starving,” Liam sighed.

Louis peeked back to see Harry already shyly looking at him.

He frowned a moment later when Harry said he would be back and returned to the basement to get more drinks.

As soon as he was gone, he slapped Niall’s arm, nearly causing him to knock over his drink.

“I wasn’t flirting with Harry! Rude!”

“Yeah, OK,” Niall scoffed.

“I wasn’t!”

“Louis, please, I’ve seen your flirting face way too many times to not know what’s going on. Liam, back me up.”

“He’s right, Lou, you have a tell.”

“Oh, please inform me what that looks like.”

“Well first, you get all happy,” Niall stated. “Like, your face just lights up like talking to the guy is the best thing ever.”

“You start playing with your fingers a lot,” Liam added. “Like right now.”

Louis looked down at his left hand, where his fingers were currently twirling his two straws around his fish bowl.

“Sometimes it’ll be straws; other times, it’s the hair on the back of your neck, or the hem of your shirt. When you get really into it, you’ll play with your bottom lip.”

“Then you get giggly,” Niall continued.

“I don’t  _giggle,_ ” Louis retorted.

“Whatever the last thing you said to Harry was,” Zayn jumped in, “you two definitely giggled.”

“Did not.”

“Did too, Lou,” Niall smiled. “After that, you start getting all touchy-feely. You run your hands up his arm and stand really close to him. Then it’s a wrap. You got someone to go home with.”

“That’s the farthest thing from the truth I’ve ever heard,” Louis rolled his eyes.

“Is not,” the other three said in unison.

“If I hadn’t have stopped you, you would have started touching Harry somewhere,” Niall argued. “I’ve seen you at about a million and one parties at school, and you always have the same pull.”

Louis didn’t have a response.

“Fuck you guys,” he spat as he took a long gulp of his drink.

They just laughed.

“Zayn, can I get this chicken finger wrap with extra fries?” Niall asked, pointing down at the menu.

“Sure thing. Liam?”

“Just a chicken quesadilla for now?”

Louis was starting to feel his drink. He figured he should get something, too.

“Let me have the same thing as Niall, but sweet potato fries instead of regular.”

“Got it.”

Zayn walked over and punched the orders into the computer.

“Zayn, we’re going to the beach tomorrow if you want to join,” Liam invited.

“The three of you?” the bartender asked.

“Yup,” Niall nodded. “There’s really nothing fun to do around here, so we might as well go swimming.”

“I have to be here at 8, but I could probably go for part of the day,” Zayn answered.

“Yay!” Louis cheered.

“Did you eat before this, Louis?”

“Not that much. That’s why I’m hoping you hurry up with that wrap.”

“I can tell. And duly noted.”

They heard the door open again and saw Harry returning with one more case of beer in his hands.

He smiled at the four of them before starting to put the bottles away.

Looking back on it, Louis knew it was definitely the drink that made him do what he did next.

At the time, he just didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing.

“Harry!” he obnoxiously called out.

The man in question quickly turned around to see what the problem was.

“You OK?” he asked.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Louis inquired instead.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the question and glanced over to the others.

“Um, I just have work tomorrow night.”

“What time?”

“8, I think? Right, Zayn?”

“Yup,” Zayn confirmed.

“Oh, you guys are coming in at the same time!” Louis exclaimed. “Awesome! You should come to the beach with us.”

“I should?” Harry smirked.

“You should. We’re all gonna go; the five of us.”

Zayn cut in. “Harry, we’ll leave early enough to clock in on time. Don’t worry.”

Harry gave a slight smile before looking back to Louis, who had an eager grin on his face.

“Please? Come on, what else are you gonna do tomorrow?”

Harry looked back at the other guys before nodding. “All right. I’ll go, as long as it’s OK.”

“What? With the guys?”

Harry shrugged one shoulder. “Well yeah; I mean, with-“

“Hang on,” Louis cut him off. “Oi! Niall! Liam!”

The other two turned their attention to Louis.

“You guys are OK with Harry coming to the beach tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Niall agreed. Liam nodded, as well.

“See?” Louis beamed. “You’re coming, then?”

“Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Awesome! Here.”

Louis took his phone out of his pocket and handed it over.

“Put your number in. I’ll text you if anything changes, but we’re meeting for breakfast at the diner at 10, and leaving from there.”

Harry typed his number into Louis’ phone and saved it before giving it back.

“Sounds good,” Harry said.

“I can’t wait,” Louis replied, putting his phone down on the bar. “Haven’t been to the beach in way too long. I’m excited.”

“Me, too. Should be a fun day.”

\---

Louis hated the beach.

He hated how the fucking sun made everything all hot.

He hated how the sand just got everywhere and bothered everyone for the rest of their lives.

He also hated how he was totally lying to himself.

In all seriousness, Louis was the only one who was hot and bothered, and it was because of Harry and his ridiculous yellow swim trunks that looked like they would fit better on one of Louis’ twin sisters than on a grown man.

But Harry made them work, and he looked so fucking gorgeous in them that Louis couldn’t stop staring.

When Harry took his shirt off for the first time, Louis wanted to lick up his torso, starting between his laurel leaves and up past his butterfly tattoo.

Seriously, who gets fucking butterfly tattoos?

When Harry had started spraying on his sunscreen, Louis had contemplated the best way to offer, “you spray my back and I’ll spray yours” without sounding like a creep.

He missed his opportunity, though, as Zayn had been closer to Harry and the two of them had just helped each other out.

But now, it was especially hard to stop watching Harry as the younger man ran to catch the football that Liam had just thrown.

The muscles in his back and his legs flexed as he moved and angled himself to catch the ball.

He caught it, narrowly avoiding crashing into a woman carrying a blue cooler.

Louis heard Harry apologize before jogging back over.

“All right, I’m getting hot,” Niall announced. “Ocean, anyone?”

“I’m coming,” Liam nodded.

“Me, too,” Zayn agreed.

“I’m getting water,” Louis decided. “Harry?”

“Yeah, water sounds good.”

The two of them took the football and went to sit down on their towels.

They pulled new bottles out of the cooler and took long swigs.

Louis lounged back on his towel and shut his eyes once he was done drinking.

“I don’t feel like getting up yet,” he stated.

“I might lay here for a little while, too,” Harry determined. “I’m tired.”

“Were you up late last night?”

“No later than usual. We closed the bar at 2. I got home around 3; nothing different than any other weekend.”

“If it helps, I went to bed early, but I just didn’t sleep that well.”

“Why would that help?” Harry wondered.

“I don’t know. Because you’re not alone in your tiredness?”

“I guess that helps a little bit. What kept you up?”

“Thoughts of my dad. What else?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The two men were silent for a moment as they lay in the sun.

“So, how did it go at the cemetery the other day?” Harry questioned.

“Um,” Louis started to say. He pushed himself up so he was on his elbows and looked over at the other man. “It didn’t?”

Harry nodded once.

“How come?” he asked, running his fingers through the sand.

“Well… Um-“

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to. Just, I walked in and there were flowers there. Like, somebody had just been there to visit? And, I don’t know, it just kind of freaked me out a little bit. Like, you know how I told you at your place how I didn’t know what to say to my dad when I went to see him?”

Harry just nodded.

“I don’t know, just… Like, I got there and saw that someone had been there recently, and I just started wondering about what they told my dad. Like, did they talk about me and my family? Did they talk about work? Or school? Or religion? Or something else? I don’t even know who it was that visited, so it’s not like I could even ask.”

Harry stayed quiet the whole time Louis was talking.

“I know it’s dumb,” Louis continued, misinterpreting Harry’s silence. “And I know I need to get over it, but like, I can’t. I just…  _can’t._ ”

Harry kept avoiding Louis’ eyes, continuing to play with the sand.

“Can you say something?” he wondered.

“Promise not to get mad at me?” Harry worried.

“Why?”

“Just, promise?”

Louis started to shake his head, and then it hit him.

“Was it  _you_?”

Harry pulled his lower lip in between his teeth before nodding slowly. “Yeah.”

“You visited my dad’s grave? You left the flowers, too?”

Harry nodded hesitatingly. “Yeah. But, Louis-“

“Why?”

“I- Um, I-“

“Why  _the fuck_ would you go visit my dad’s grave?”

Louis shifted himself into a sitting position, and Harry quickly followed suit.

“Why did you go there, Harry?” he asked, whipping off his sunglasses. “You didn’t even know my dad!”

“I know I didn’t, Louis, but I just-“

“What? What reason could you possibly have to go there? Did my mom invite you? My sisters? I know I sure as hell didn’t!”

“I went there for you.”

“Oh, this should be good,” Louis scoffed.

“Listen, you said that you go there and sit at the grave and can’t say anything. You said that your dad couldn’t hear anything that you say. But, what if he can? And what if he really is looking down on you and seeing you struggle to say what you want? Someone should be there telling him what it is that you want to say.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he rolled his eyes. “You sound like my mother. You said you didn’t believe in all that bullshit.”

“Well maybe it’s true,” Harry defended. “And maybe it’s not. But either way, your mom and sisters get to tell your dad how much they miss him, and you can’t. And I don’t think that’s fair, so I was just trying to help.”

“Well I don’t need your help! I didn’t ask for it, Harry. God, this is why I don’t talk about feelings. They always come back to bite me in the ass.”

“Louis,” Harry reached over to try to console his friend.

“No! Don’t fucking touch me.”

“OK; OK,” Harry immediately retracted his hand. “Louis, please don’t cry.”

Louis blinked a few times to try to get rid of the tears currently blurring his vision.

“What did you even say?” he demanded.

“I just said that you missed him, and you loved him. I said that all the times that you visited, you wanted to say those same things, but you were just having a hard time at it. I told him my name was Harry, and I didn’t understand how you were feeling, but I was trying. Then I left the flowers and I left. I was only there for a few minutes, I swear.”

Louis let a sob escape his body. He felt his chest clench up as he held in more.

“Louis-“

“No, please don’t,” he shook his head.

He moved back from Harry as he tried to calm himself down.

Harry sat silently, waiting for Louis to either stop crying or start yelling.

“What’s  _wrong_  with me?”

“Nothing, Louis.”

“No, something has to be,” Louis insisted. “I mean, you didn’t even know my dad, and you could say  _something_  to him. He’s  _my dad,_ and I can’t say shit. Seriously, what’s wrong with me?”

“Louis, look at me,” Harry requested. "Please?"

He waited until the older man tore his stare away from the sand and up to his own eyes.

“It’s a totally different situation. You lost  _your father_. There’s no guidebook to how you’re supposed to react. There’s not a manual you have to follow in order to grieve. You’re right: I didn’t know your dad. That’s why it was even possible for me to go there. If I had known him, or if it had been my own dad, I probably wouldn’t have been able to do that. Hell, if it was my dad, I would avoid that place at all costs.”

Louis was fully bawling by this point. Whenever he wiped his eyes, more tears just appeared.

“Louis, you’re so strong,” Harry continued. “You don’t realize how fucking strong you really are.”

“I’m not,” Louis shook his head. “I can’t even-“

“Stop worrying about what you can’t do, and be proud of what you can. You keep going. You’re still grieving, but you’re continuing with your life. You’re keeping your dad’s memory alive by keeping his sweater, and visiting his grave and just talking about him. You probably make sure your sisters don’t forget about him, too. Right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You’re applying for teaching jobs because not only is it what you want to do, it’s also what your dad would’ve been so proud of. And I know you hate when people talk like your mom, but if there is a Heaven, then your dad is definitely looking down on you, and he’s so proud of you. He probably has his own window that looks straight at you.”

And then Louis lost it. He crumpled in on himself and his hands flew up to his face.

He didn’t push Harry away when he pulled him into a hug.

“It’s OK,” Harry consoled. “It’s all right; let it out.”

So Louis did.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, it clicked that this was the second time in a week that he’d cried in front of Harry.

He almost never cried, but that was clearly out the window.

He didn’t know when he’d become the kind of person who didn’t have a problem expressing his feelings in front of other people.

When he was growing up, he’d never let anybody see him upset.

Sure, his face was always a dead giveaway to how he was feeling, but the factors that hurt him were always on lockdown.

Until now.

“It’s OK,” Harry repeated softly, bringing Louis back to reality.

He remembered they were still in the middle of a very crowded beach, so no doubt, somebody had witnessed that entire mental breakdown.

He found that he didn’t care that much.

He realized that he was wrapped tightly in Harry’s arms, though.  

Harry must’ve felt Louis tense up at the information, because he started to pull back.

But Louis didn’t let him.

Instead, he snuggled closer into Harry’s chest and stayed there until Harry got the hint and started to rub Louis’ back, as well.

“I know this is a really dumb question, but are you OK?” Harry asked once Louis stopped crying.

“Getting there,” Louis muttered in response.

He took his head off Harry’s shoulder and sat himself up, slowly moving away from Harry.

The bartender watched him as he wiped his face off and took a deep breath.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“For what?” Harry smiled.

Louis shrugged. “For leaning on you when it’s like a million degrees out here. I’m sweating, so I know you probably are, too.”

“It’s fine. You can always talk to me, OK?”

Louis nodded.

“OK. You know, we could go jump in the ocean and cool off.”

“Oh, is that what all that water is for?”

“I think so. It seems to be working for everybody else out there.”

“Well what are we waiting for?” Louis smirked. “Let’s go.”

Harry stood up and extended a hand to help Louis up.

They walked down to the water and, without letting go of each other, waded in near where their friends were.

Niall nodded to them and Louis raised a finger to his mouth, telling him not to say anything.

“Watch this,” Louis whispered.

He finally let go of Harry’s hand and went under the water.

He swam over to Liam and grabbed at his sides. He pulled on him until he shrieked and started flailing in the water, eventually going under the surface, too.

When he came above water, he heard Zayn and Niall laughing and Liam scolding him.

He also saw Harry looking between Louis and Liam.

He didn’t know why, but Harry looked slightly guilty.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, because all of a sudden, Liam was dunking him back.

In Louis’ book, that was an official declaration of war.

\---

**_Louis: Did you mean it before?_ **

**_Louis: When you said I could always talk to you?_ **

Louis looked over his shoulder to make sure Liam and Niall were still playing basketball.

The three of them had just left Harry and Zayn so that the two bartenders could drive home to go to work.

They hung back a little while longer, finding an arcade to play games at.

Now he was texting Harry, because he just needed to know something.

**_Harry: Of course._ **

Louis smiled to himself.

It was the answer he’d been looking for, especially since Harry had seen him cry a record two times. He wasn’t even sure Liam had seen him cry twice in the fourteen years they’ve known each other.

**_Louis: Good. I might hold you to that, you know._ **

**_Harry: Good._ **

\---

_“Mark? Mark, come on, get up,” Jay pleaded. “Get up, please!”_

_“Lottie, call 911!” Louis commanded his sister._

_“Mark, please don’t do this,” Jay cried._

_Louis checked his dad’s pulse, which was difficult to find with how badly his hand was shaking. When he finally found it, it was going so erratically that Louis almost couldn’t keep track._

_“The ambulance is coming,” Lottie said tearfully._

_“What’s going on?” Daisy asked as she and Phoebe walked in._

_“No, no!” Jay waved her arms. “Girls, get them out of here.”_

_Fizzy grabbed Lottie’s arm and herded her older and younger sisters away from their father._

_“What’s wrong with Daddy?” one of the twins wanted to know._

_“Dad, come on,” Louis sobbed. “Mom, what do we do?”_

_Jay looked up at her firstborn with tears streaming down her face._

_“We pray,” she finally resolved. “Come on.”_

_She took his hands in hers and quickly started off on a prayer that Louis didn’t listen to._

_Instead he looked down at his father, who was lying too still._

_He kept staring at Mark until the EMTs burst through the front door._

_His sisters’ screams were the last thing he remembered._

\---

A few days later, Louis sat at his father’s grave again.

It was more crowded this time, with five or six families surrounding Louis.

It made him more paranoid than he had been the last time he was there.

All of the other people being there made Louis question why he even bothered showing up.

There was a woman who was a few years older than him, rambling on about her day to her mother’s head stone.

“So, I got my invitation to my ten-year high school reunion today, Mom,” the woman said happily. “I don’t know if I should go, though. I mean, a few of my friends said they would go, but do I care enough? Like, I see so many of these people on Facebook; not that I really care so much about their lives to really pay attention, but I still know the basics of what’s going on with them. Do I need to go to a reunion, too?”

She stopped for a moment, and Louis glanced over to see if she was OK.

She looked fine, like she was just getting her thoughts together.

“It just made me think of when you told me about when you went to your twenty-five year reunion, and you said you only went to see who got fat and bald, and which one of your exes looked the worst. I think I’d just be going to see anybody who I’m not friends with on Facebook, or who doesn’t have one. I don’t know. Maybe I won’t go. There’s not really a point, is there?”

She stopped again, like she was waiting for her mother to respond.

“I wish I could hear your voice again,” she said, this time more sadly.

Louis ducked his head, and stopped listening to what the woman was saying. 

It was one-sided, but Louis still thought of it as a conversation. He didn't want to be rude and eavesdrop on it. 

Suddenly, he didn’t want to be there any more.

Without saying anything to his father, he jumped up and made his way back to his car.

He drove home, only vaguely aware of what was going on around him.

When he pulled up outside his house, he did a double take, not realizing he had gotten there already.

 _Good thing it’s the middle of the afternoon and nobody’s on the road,_ he thought to himself.

He got out and looked at his house.

He didn’t want to go in just yet, so he put his keys in his pocket and started to walk.

He knew Liam was working, but didn't hear any sirens in the surrounding area, so he hoped that he was still at the station.

He turned the corner and walked down the two streets to where Liam worked.

The fire truck came into view easily enough, as it was pulled out of the garage.

As he got closer, he saw that Liam, Andy, Michael and Calum were waxing it.

It had been slow at the station lately. Unlike at any other job, that was a good thing.

“Hey,” he called out.

The four men turned to greet him.

“What’s up, Lou?” Calum asked from the top of the truck.

“Eh, just out for a stroll,” he answered easily.

Liam looked at him, aware that wasn’t the full truth.

“And you decided to pay us a visit?” Andy grinned. “I’m honored; really.”

“You should be; my time is very valuable.”

“You were bored, weren’t you?” Michael smirked.

“A little bit,” Louis admitted.

The others laughed, but Liam took a step closer to him.

“Are you OK?” he whispered, while the others started talking.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Louis nodded.

“Are you sure? Because you know you can-“

“Can we all go to a club soon?” Louis asked loudly, stepping past Liam.

“Hell yeah,” Andy enthused.

Louis heard Liam take a deep breath before speaking. “When?” he wondered.

“This weekend? When you working?”

“We’ll be off Saturday,” Liam shared.

“Perfect! Let’s go.”

“Where should we go?” Andy asked.

“Good Friday?”

“That works,” Michael nodded.

“We haven’t been there in a while,” Calum agreed.

“So it’s agreed, then?” Louis confirmed. “Saturday night? Good Friday?”

The other guys nodded.

“Cool. Invite anyone else to go.”

“We can meet at my house if you want, and we can leave from there,” Liam offered.

“Can’t wait.”

\---

On Saturday night, Louis walked into the club with Liam, and about half of his comrades in tow.

He didn’t hesitate to walk up to the bar and order a round of shots for them.

“ _Now_  do you want to tell me what was bothering you the other day?” Liam asked quietly after they’d taken it.

“Nope,” Louis shook his head. “I do want to dance, though.”

So he did. Louis spent most of the night on the dance floor. He danced with his friends, but he also danced with other people, random other club-goers who just wanted to have fun like Louis did.

He realized while he jumped around with Ashton that he hadn’t been out like this in months, since he first started student teaching.

It had been a while, so Louis figured,  _what the hell? Might as well let loose._

Maybe it was between his fourth and fifth beer, or maybe after his third shot, that he started texting Harry.

At that point of the night, he was just glad his texts came out in mostly English.

**_Louis: Come out to Good Friday!_ **

**_Harry: When? Now?_ **

**_Louis: Yes now!_ **

**_Louis: Please?_ **

**_Harry: You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?_ **

**_Louis: Duh. Who cares? come outttt_ **

**_Harry: I don’t know._ **

**_Louis: plasee? the guys aer boring. They wont dance with meeee =(‘_ **

**_Harry: You’re funny when you’re drunk._ **

**_Louis: notd drunk_ **

**_Harry: You’re flagged._ **

**_Louis: so you comig?_ **

**_Harry: Will you know who I am if I do?_ **

**_Louis: yeh!_ **

**_Louis: wait your really coming?_ **

**_Louis: yay!_ **

**_Harry: Haha. Yeah, I’m clocking out in a few minutes, so I’ll be there soon._ **

**_Louis: yaaayyyyy!!!!_ **

**_Louis: miss you_ **

**_Harry: ;)_ **

Louis got a glass of water to at least attempt to get himself together.

He wasn’t drunk enough to think that taking more shots was a good idea, but he  _was_ drunk enough to start considering it… if he had more beer.

It was a never-ending cycle.

While he waited for the water to kick in, he got roped into being a fourth at a pool game with Liam, Luke and Calum.

He warned Liam that he wouldn’t be very good, but Liam shrugged it off.

After a few turns, Louis realized that he’d forgotten how good at pool Liam was. They wound up winning the first game, even though Louis had nearly scratched. Twice.

They were halfway through the second game when Louis saw Harry walking in.

“Harry!” he bellowed across the crowded club.

He watched as the bartender looked around, quickly making eye contact with Louis.

He walked over to them.

Luckily, Harry was paying attention. If he weren’t, he wouldn’t have caught Louis, who had flung himself at Harry.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Louis gushed as Harry pulled him into a hug.

“Is this OK?” Harry asked, unsure of himself.

“Of course it is,” Louis replied as he stepped back. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just making sure.”

“Yeah! Here, you already know Liam, but do you know Luke and Calum?” he introduced.

“Yeah, we’ve met,” Harry nodded as he waved at the other two men.

“You want to get a drink?” Louis asked.

He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he just grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him over to the bar.

“Did you need to finish your game?” Harry wondered.

“Nah. Liam didn’t need me any way. He can kick their asses on his own.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, when we play pool together, he makes me look like an amateur. He’ll be fine.”

Louis flagged down the bartender.

“Can we get two shots of Jameson?”

The girl nodded and went to get their drinks.

“Jameson?” Harry asked skeptically.

“Yeah. Have you gotten better at taking it?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at the accidental innuendo.

“Not like that, you perv,” Louis swatted at Harry’s arm. “But it’s good to know where your mind is.”

He punctuated that last sentence with a wink. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, just out of curiosity,” Harry wondered as he leaned forward, “where is your mind?”

Louis pursed his lips as he figured out how to best answer the question.

He leisurely ran his fingers up and down Harry's side.

“Probably in the same place as yours.”

He slid his hand just under the hem of Harry's shirt, letting his fingers curl around his hip and pressing his fingertips into Harry's bare skin. 

“But, I’m pretty flexible when it comes to giving and taking.”

He slowly brought his eyes up to meet Harry’s, finding the other man seemingly struggling to breathe correctly.

“Here you go, gentlemen,” the bartender announced, coming back to where they were.

“Thank you,” Louis smiled easily as if he hadn’t just teased the shit out of the man next to him. “Can you add it to our tab?”

She nodded and left them alone.

“Cheers,” Louis offered, holding up his shot glass.

Harry gulped before doing the same.

They tapped their glasses together and tossed them back.

“You’re getting better at that,” Louis noticed.

“Thanks. Don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”

“I think it’s good,” Louis replied. His hips were rocking to the beat of the song playing.

Harry noticed. “You want to go dance, don’t you?”

Louis nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Will you go with me?”

“I don’t know. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“You don’t have to be,” Louis said. He took Harry’s hands in his own. “Please? Come on.”

“It’s really hard to say ‘no’ to you. Did you know that?”

“Of course I knew that. It’s part of my charm. Come on.”

Louis dragged Harry to the dance floor and turned so that they were facing each other.

It started out innocently.

The two of them started dancing, and Louis immediately loved how adorably Harry moved to the music. He started with a little shoulder shake that was surprisingly on beat. 

It was like watching a combination between a baby penguin and a drunken uncle at a Christmas party.

After sticking with that move for a while, he threw his hands in the air and waved them side-to-side while he gyrated his hips and Louis couldn’t help but laugh.

Harry grinned up at him and started lassoing one arm in the air and pointed at Louis with the other.

“No, Harry,” he giggled.

Harry just nodded and threw an imaginary rope around Louis’ waist.

He started pulling back with his hands and Louis had no choice but to hop his way over to where Harry was standing.

When he was right in front of the younger man, Louis burst out laughing and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“I told you I’m not much of a dancer,” Harry spoke into Louis’ ear. He wound his arms around Louis’ shoulders. “You should’ve listened.”

They moved back and forth like that for the rest of the song.

“Have you had enough yet?” Harry asked jokingly.

Louis shook his head. “Nope. Because, you showed me your dance moves. Now, it’s my turn to show you mine.”

"Yeah?"

Harry loosened his hold in preparation for whatever Louis was going to throw at him.

Louis leaned up and said into Harry’s ear, “and don’t worry; you’re really going to like this.”

He turned around and backed into Harry, pressing his ass up against Harry’s crotch.

He swayed in time to the song, smiling when Harry grabbed onto the fleshy part of his hips.

He started to push back a little harder and Harry did the same.

He met the other man grind for grind and put his hands on top of Harry’s, pushing them further into his skin.

When the song changed again, Louis straightened up, leaning his back up against Harry’s chest.

The two of them slowly moved together, tuning out the other people around them who were no doubt dancing similarly: the ones who planned on going home with someone tonight.

Harry lowered his face to nuzzle along the side of Louis’.

The older man turned his head to the right, and Harry moved to kiss down Louis’ neck.

He let out a gasp as Harry lightly bit down on the skin behind his ear.

He shot a hand up to the back of Harry’s neck to hold him there.

Harry took the hint and didn’t try to move; instead, he started sucking a mark there.

He pulled off a moment later and gently blew on what was left behind.

Louis was done playing games now.

He turned around in Harry’s arms to face him again and looked right into his eyes. He was met with normally green eyes that were now blown out with how turned on Harry was.

He surged forward and kissed Harry on the lips, pleased when it was returned.

Louis circled his arms around Harry’s neck and stood up on his tiptoes, not even bothering to act like he was dancing any more.

Harry pulled Louis in closer to him and tilted his head to the side.

Louis flicked his tongue out, and was immediately rewarded by Harry parting his lips.

Their tongues met somewhere in the middle and started massaging the other.

While they kissed, their actions got gradually rougher.

Harry slid a hand down Louis’ back to the curve of his ass and gently pushed him forward.

Louis spread his legs farther apart so Harry could fit one of his own legs between them.

He rubbed up against Harry’s thigh because  _fuck,_ he needed something.

He felt himself swelling up inside his jeans, and judging by Harry’s reaction, he was feeling the same way.

Louis reached a hand up into Harry’s hair, twirling strands around his fingers.

Their rubbing off on each other caused Louis to slightly lose his balance, however, and he accidentally pulled on Harry’s hair as he tried to regain it.

It was loud in the club, so Louis didn’t hear the moan that Harry let out, but since they were still attached at the lips, he felt it.

He broke the kiss and admired Harry for just a second.

The man looked totally disheveled, his cheeks flushed and his lips even more sinfully pink than before thanks to Louis. His hair was a mess, and Louis could officially feel his semi through his jeans.

He imagined he looked similar.

Based on the look Harry was giving him, though, it wasn’t a problem.

They leaned back in.

And then the lights came on.

The two men jumped back and looked up at the ceiling, realizing that it was last call.

They didn’t have to go home but they had to get the hell out of there.

They looked at each other, both breathing heavier than they cared to admit.

“Um…” Harry started.

“So…” Louis replied.

“Louis! You ready to go?”

They turned to see Liam walking their way.

They broke apart from each other.

“Andy’s waiting for us at the truck. Harry, did you need a ride?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I drove myself.”

“And you’re good to drive?”

“Yeah; thanks for asking. Um, I’ll see you guys later.”

With a quick wave, Harry turned and headed toward the exit.

As soon as Harry was gone, Louis turned and smacked Liam on the arm.

“Ow!” Liam whined. “What did I do?”

“Cock block,” Louis accused.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” Louis rolled his eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance.

"What's that?" Liam asked, poking at the hickey behind his ear.

"Ow!" 

Louis swatted at Liam again, who dodged it that time. 

"Wow, I really did fuck that up for you, huh?"

"Yeah!"

“Well, I didn’t know! Why did he leave so fast? Did I embarrass him or something?”

“Probably,” Louis whined. “Ughh... Come on. Let’s just go home.”

\---

A couple of days went by before Louis saw Harry again, and when he did, it was a complete fluke.

“Louis!” his mom called out to him.

He saved the current job application he was filling out to go see what his mom needed.

“What’s up?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Can you go by the church for me?”

Louis raised an eyebrow at the request, but remained silent.

“It’s just, I promised the reverend I would drop off some paperwork for tomorrow morning, and I completely forgot, but as you can see, I already started dinner.”

He looked at the stove to see a pot with something boiling in it. She also had some chicken on the cutting board that she had just started slicing.

“And I work early tomorrow morning, so I won’t be able to give it to him then. So, unless you want to take over here for me…”

“No!" he exclaimed. He was shocked that his mother had even suggested the idea of leaving him in charge in the kitchen.

"I mean, it’s fine, Mom. I’ll drop off the papers for you."

“You’re sure?” Jay asked hesitatingly.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I mean, I’m not going to burst into flames or something when I go in, am I?”

“Louis,” she warned.

“I’m just kidding,” he smiled. Just to make her happy, he added on, “God loves everybody, right?”

“Exactly. Where’d you learn that from?”

“Just the smartest parents I know.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “What do I have to take him?”

“It’s in an envelope in my room. It should be on top of the dresser.”

Louis nodded and left the kitchen. He returned to his room and put on his sneakers and stuffed his wallet and phone into his pockets.

Slowly, he entered his mom’s room and walked over to the dresser, quickly finding a tan business envelope clipped shut.

He grabbed it, assuming it was what he needed, as it was the only envelope in sight.

As he turned to leave, a framed photo caught his eye. It was one that he was familiar with.

It was the day that Jay had brought home her first ultrasound picture; just after she found out she was pregnant with Lottie.

In the photo, Louis is standing with his arms looped around Jay and Mark’s necks, while they knelt next to him, each of them with one hand on the picture.

The growing family formed a sort of diamond with their positions, and they all had wide smiles on their faces.

Louis fondly remembered the day they had taken the picture: a six-year-old him finding out he was going to be a big brother and immediately offering to share his toys with the still-unborn baby.

When his parents told him they still had six more months until the baby was born, he pouted for about a week.

He smiled to himself, focusing in on his father’s happy face: one of a man who was so happy to not only call Jay and Louis his family, but eager to build on to it, as well.

He told himself not to cry.

 _He had a brilliant life,_ he reminded himself.

 _Just not long enough,_ that bitter voice in the back of his head added.

He turned and left the room, walking back to the kitchen.

“This one?” he asked for confirmation.

“Yes!” Jay answered. “Thank you so much, Louis.”

“You’re welcome. I’m not bringing my key, so don’t go anywhere in the next half hour.”

“No promises,” Jay winked.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He walked out of the house and headed toward the church.

It was a nice day out. It had been hot earlier in the day, but now that it was late afternoon, it had cooled off significantly.

While he walked, he looked around his little town.

He still had memories of walking this way to get to the soccer fields for early morning practices.

There was one particular time when he thought he was hot shit and wanted to show off to his friends; he had tried to jump the fence instead of waiting five more minutes for their coach to show up.

He wound up slipping and hitting the bottom of his chin.

His jaw had hurt for about a week  _and_ he had to run extra laps at practice every day for a month.

He never said it was a fond memory.

It was while he was passing the bookstore that it happened.

He peered in the window and saw Harry browsing one of the shelves.

 _So you are alive,_ he thought to himself.

He took a deep breath and walked into the shop.

The little bell above the door rang, announcing his entrance.

The owner, Bobby looked up at him and smiled. “Hey, Louis,” he greeted.

“Hey, Bobby,” he waved back.

Harry looked up then, fixing his gaze in on Louis.

“Can we talk?” he wondered nervously.

Harry nodded, and placed the book he had been examining back on the shelf.

They moved off to the side so that Bobby wouldn’t be able to hear them talking.

“So…” Louis started.

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologized.

“For what?”

“Just… The other night. I took it too far. I got carried away, and I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

_Wait, what?_

“Yeah. We can still be friends, though. I hope we will be.”

_Well excuse the fuck out of me._

This was not the way that Louis thought this conversation would go.

He stayed quiet just a beat too long.

“Louis?” Harry asked slowly.

“Yeah, sorry. Um, I want to be friends, too. Sorry I like, threw myself at you.”

_This is fucking embarrassing._

“You’re not the one who should be sorry,” Harry shook his head. “Liam’s not mad at you, is he?”

Louis halted. “Um, no? Why would he be?”

“Well, did he figure out I kissed you?”

“He assumed as much; he saw the hickey you gave me. I called him a cock block after you left.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

Louis nodded his head. “I mean, I thought he was. Guess he actually wasn’t.”

“Right, OK. Well, this is getting weird so, I’ll see you around?”

Louis shrugged a shoulder. “It’s a small town, so yeah.”

“True. All right, then I’ll see you.”

“Bye, Harry.”

“See you, Louis.”

Harry left the store then and Louis dropped his head back. Of all the guys he wanted to hook up with, he just  _had_  to pick a hot bartender who apparently had no interest in him.

He could’ve sworn he read all the signs right, though.

With one final eye roll at his own stupidity, Louis left the store, too, waving goodbye to Bobby as he left.

He continued his walk to the church, seeing it come into view just a block later.

He crossed the street and walked up to the front door.

After looking around to see if there was anything saying the church was closed for whatever reason, he pushed the door open.

The building was empty, and he walked down the aisle toward the front of the building, hoping someone would come out.

“Hello?” he called out.

He stopped a few pews back from the front and waited.

He hadn’t been here since the funeral.

It felt a lot more peaceful now, without Louis and the other people crying.

From the side, he heard some rustling.

A door opened, and out came the reverend.

“Louis, what a pleasant surprise,” Pastor Campbell greeted as he walked over.

“Hi, how are you?” Louis asked easily.

“Very well, thank you. And you?”

“Can’t complain, I guess.”

“Glad to hear that. Now what can I do for you? I don’t usually see you here.”

Louis smiled before saying, “My mom asked me to drop this off for you?”

He held out the envelope.

“Oh, yes! Wonderful,” Pastor Campbell enthused. “I’ll be needing this tomorrow. We’re having a finance meeting. Usually your mother would be present, but her schedule changed at the hospital.”

Louis nodded, knowing that Jay always worked in the afternoons on Thursdays, but some other nurse was sick and had to call out. 

“Right.”

He looked around the room, appreciating the beauty in the stained glass windows, the sunlight streaming through them casting colorful beams of light onto the floor. 

“I don’t suppose I’ll be seeing you here on Sunday?”

Louis shook his head kindly. “No. Sorry.”

“It’s OK. We’ll be here if you need us.”

“Thanks,” Louis nodded.

“He sat just over there, you know,” Pastor Campbell pointed to the pew behind the one Louis was standing next to.

Louis took a step back, hovering by the specific spot.

“Here, huh?”

Pastor Campbell nodded. “He said it was a good seat for him. It wasn’t one of the first few rows, because he felt people who really needed to be closer to God should sit there instead of him. But it was far up enough so that he could see the smiles on everybody’s faces, and the light coming through the windows never got in his eyes.”

Louis let out a small laugh. That sounded exactly like something his dad would say: I’ll sit here because I don’t want the sun to blind me.

He sat down in his father’s designated spot.

“Mark would always come in here wearing his best suit,” the pastor recalled as he sat down in the pew in front of Louis. “He’d say hi to everybody. And I mean  _everybody._ Louis, your father had a kind word to say about everyone, even if they didn’t know each other that well. And then, he, your mother and your sisters would come up to this pew and sit down."

Louis sat quietly, listening to the memory.

“He would let Charlotte and Félicité go first, and then the twins and then your mother. He would sit on the end so he could put money in the collection plate for everyone, and he always put in multiples of seven.”

“Why?”

The pastor looked at him as if it was obvious. “Because there are seven members in his family.”

Louis could feel the tears coming on as he stared at the minister. That was something else his dad would do.

Even though Louis was never there, Mark made sure he was there in spirit.

Mark had always told Louis he loved him, so it wasn’t like there was ever a doubt in his mind about that.

It’s just… Considering Louis had never made an effort with the whole religion thing, and typically avoided the church like the plague, he didn’t expect to be included in the monetary offering.

It hit him harder than it should’ve, and Louis could hear himself sniffling.

“Thank you,” Louis said quietly, unsure if the pastor would even know what he was being thanked for.

“You’re welcome.”

The two of them sat silently for a moment before Pastor Campbell began on another thought.

“You know, I’ll never forget the first day I met your parents in this church.”

Louis nodded, urging him to continue.

“They walked into my office. It was my first month as reverend here. I had seen them around town and introduced myself before, but we’d never had a real conversation. Anyway, they walked in and said they intended to join the congregation, and just wanted to know a little about the church, and about me. I was, of course, happy to oblige. And, I asked them why they were coming in then. I knew your family had lived here for years before, but they hadn’t really attended services.”

Louis leaned back as he listened to the rest of the story.

_“Well,” Jay said, taking her husband’s hand in her own, “about two years ago, Mark got sick for the first time. It was the only time in my life where I ever considered praying and asking God to please help him. And, lo and behold, he was cured. Quickly. The doctors were amazed at his progress in such a short period of time.”_

_Mark nodded. “It was truly a miracle. We’ve had a great two years, but, unfortunately, the cancer is back again.”_

_“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Pastor Campbell commented._

_“Thank you. But now I have a bit of an idea of what to expect, and I'm ready to take it on for my family, and for myself. I’m hoping that He’ll give me the strength I need to fight this again.”_

_“That’s a heavy request.”_

_“I did it before,” Mark stated. “With God behind me now, I’ll be able to win this battle.”_

Louis was confused. His father had gone into remission a few times in the six years that he’d been sick, but it hadn’t been for two years.

“Wait, how long ago was this?” Louis wondered.

“Well, I’ve been here a little over six years,” Pastor Campbell answered.

Six years ago, his parents came to the church saying that Mark had been healthy for two years, and then he wasn’t.

But, Mark had gotten sick six years ago.

Surely, the pastor was mistaken, because this wasn’t adding up.

Unless…

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

The pastor slightly winced at his language choice. “Louis, did you forget where you are?”

He had.

Louis looked around him, remembering he was in the church.

“I’m so sorry,” he quickly apologized. “Um, I have to go, though. I’m sorry.”

He jumped up and hurried out of the building.

As he walked, he started seeing red.

His mom had lied to him. His dad had lied to him.

With each step he took, he got angrier.

How could they keep this from him? His father had been sick two years before they had told Louis and his sisters. Why would they hide that?  _How_ did they hide it?

Louis remembered the endless hours of treatment his father would endure while he was sick, and how nauseous and fatigued it would make him for days after.

How had he not noticed?

When he saw his house in sight, he started jogging, wanting to talk to his mom sooner.

He burst through the front door, yelling for her as he did.

“Mom!” he bellowed, going straight for the kitchen.

He pushed the door open, seeing Jay wipe her hands off on a dishrag.

“What’s the matter?” she questioned worriedly.

“You lied to me,” he accused.

“Excuse me?”

“You  _lied._ Dad was sick  _eight_  years ago, not six. He was sick  _two years_  before you said he was, and you hid that from me. Why?”

Jay looked paler now than she had when she had first gone into labor with the twins.

“Louis, who-?”

“Pastor Campbell told me the first time that he met you and dad at the church, it was six years ago because you went in there saying that you prayed to God the first time he got sick, and that had been two years before that. I can do the math, mom. That means, that eight years ago, Dad got sick. Then, he got healthy again. And two years later, he was sick again. But you never told me that first part. Why?”

“Louis…”

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think I couldn’t handle it?”

“Of course we thought you could handle it, Louis!” Jay exclaimed. “That doesn’t mean you should’ve had to!”

“Mom, come on,” Louis sighed.

“No,  _you_ come on. You were fourteen the first time your dad got sick.  _Fourteen_ , Louis. You were a freshman in high school. You had testing, and exams, and soccer practice, and you were worried about hanging out with your friends and getting playing time on the field. You shouldn’t have had to have that weighing you down, too.”

“ _Weighing me down_?”

“Yes; because that wasn’t something that we wanted you to feel burdened with. We know you, Louis. You would’ve wanted to quit the team and change your classes to easier ones so you could be around more and help. Try to deny that.”

Louis couldn’t. His mom was right.

“Your sisters were young. They were in elementary school. The twins were only in preschool the first time around. It wasn’t right. We couldn’t tell you.”

“So why did you even bother telling us the second time, then? Why didn’t you try to hide it?”

“We wanted to. We desperately wanted to. But, the second strain was more aggressive than the first. The doctor said that if he ever went into remission, there was a high chance of it returning. And it did. We wanted you kids to be prepared.”

“But only the second time, right?”

Jay sighed, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Louis-“

“What if he had died, Mom?”

“What?”

“What if he had died the first time? Hmm? We wouldn’t have known why Dad was gone, we would’ve only known that he was.”

“Louis, please don’t think that way.”

“But I am! He could’ve died without me being able to say goodbye; without the girls being able to build final memories with him.”

“Louis, please-“

“You should’ve told me,” he forced out.

He wiped the streams of his tears from his face.

“You should’ve fucking told me,” he repeated.

He turned around and walked out the way he came, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door.

“Louis, come back!” Jay pleaded. “Louis!”

But he ignored her and got in his car, shoving the key into the ignition and throwing it in gear.

He drove, with only one destination in his mind.

More quickly than traffic laws actually allowed, he pulled into the parking lot of the cemetery.

He pocketed the key as he got out of his car and stormed off toward his father’s grave, finally feeling like he knew what he wanted to say.

He let out a huff when he got to the familiar spot, only stilling when he was directly in front of it.

“You-“ he started before he choked up.

The tears started to fall again as he shook his head.

“You were sick,” he said. “You didn’t tell me. You didn’t fucking tell me.”

He started pacing, finally having the courage to say what he really felt. It wasn’t the ideal thing to say to his deceased father, but nonetheless, it was something.

“Whatever happened to ‘men of the house,’ Dad? Huh? You always said that we had to stick together, because we were surrounded by women, and always would be. And then, as soon as something happened, you didn’t tell me. I don’t care that I was fourteen. I would’ve done something. Hell, I just wish I knew. I would’ve been… I don’t know. Less annoying. I would’ve taken out the trash more. I would’ve actually learned to cook so I could help mom when she didn’t feel like it. I don’t know.”

He ran his fingers through his hair while he moved, trying to figure out how the hell else he was feeling.

“I don’t even know what I’m thinking right now, Dad. I’m hurt. Let’s start with that. I’m hurt that you felt like you couldn’t trust me with this. And I know I’m not supposed to think this way, but what if you had died that first round? I wouldn’t have been able to say goodbye. We wouldn’t have gone on any of those ‘camping trips’ we did during the years when I actually knew you were sick. You would’ve missed my high school graduation, and my college graduation. You wouldn’t have been there for any of the big stuff: when I declared my major, when I came out, when I told you I liked a boy for the first time. You would’ve missed it all, and the thought of that kills me. Dad, that hurts so much I can’t even describe it, because I can’t imagine going through all of that without you backing me up every step of the way. You were there for me when I needed you the most, but I couldn’t be there for you when you needed all the support you could get. And the thought of you being that vulnerable and alone, it…”

He let out a cry instead of another sentence, and finally succumbed to his emotions. He sat down on the ground in front of him and bawled his eyes out.

“Goddammit, Dad!” he yelled, his voice echoing through the empty cemetery. “I keep thinking of these ‘What If’s’ but the only thing I should be thinking is how much I wish I could say all of this to your face. I should be able to get mad at you and have you say something back to me, and I can’t, and I- I-“

He sniffled loudly and blinked a few times, struggling to get the last of his thoughts out.

“I can’t say this to your face, because you’re not here. You were the best Dad I ever could’ve asked for, and you were taken from us way too soon. I know you’re up in Heaven right now and that’s all I can ask for for you, but that doesn’t make it any less painful. To wake up every morning and know you’re not downstairs watching the news and having your morning bowl of oatmeal and glass of apple juice. You won’t be there when I get my first job, or when I get married or have my first kid and you just won’t be there. And it’s not fucking fair. It’s not fair! And I hope you’re watching me right now and you’re listening to every word I’m saying because I’ve been trying to say it for weeks, so you better not be missing this because if you are, I’m gonna be pissed! Even more than I am now, OK?”

He looked up to the sky, as if there would be a window there for him to look through and see his father looking back at him. All he saw were gray rain clouds, though.

“God, I miss you, Dad. I miss you so fucking much, and I’m sorry for swearing. I know you always hated that. But I just- I just don’t know how to deal with all of this.”

His crying slowed down, but his face was still wet from all the tears he’d shed.

He looked up at the sky again. “You know, if you’re really up there watching me right now, it would be really helpful if you could send me some kind of sign that you heard me.”

As if on cue, the clouds broke, and it started raining.

He closed his eyes, keeping his face aimed toward the sky, smiling when the rain got heavier.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, Dad, you know that?”

And then he started laughing. He laughed as the rain drenched him through his clothes, soaking him to his core.

Fortunately for him, the rain was at least warm.

“Maybe you really are up there.”

He looked at the gravestone. “I love you, you know.”

He glanced up at the sky, seeing that the rain probably wasn’t letting up any time soon.

“I’ll be back, OK?” Louis said, almost asking his dad’s permission to leave. “I promise.”

He hopped up, careful not to slip on the wet ground beneath him.

He trudged his way back to the car, trying to get as much mud off him as he could before entering it.

He turned the car on and made his way home.

When he walked through the front door, he heard his family in the kitchen.

He pushed the door open carefully, and as he did, all five of them turned their heads to acknowledge him.

“Louis, are you OK?” Jay asked. She approached him slowly, as if she was afraid to scare him off.

Instead of answering, he just pulled her into a hug.

Anyone else would’ve pulled away from his soaking wet embrace; but Jay held on tightly.

“I love you,” he mumbled in her ear.

“I love you, Firstborn,” she muttered affectionately.

One by one, each of his sisters joined in on the hug.

“We’re gonna be OK,” Jay promised them.

Louis nodded his head.

They didn’t need to say anything else.

\---

**_Louis: Is Harry working tonight?_ **

**_Zayn: No, he's off. Why?_ **

Louis ignored the question as he called Harry. The man said that he could always talk to him; he hoped he would keep that promise now. 

After he finally came home from the cemetery, he took a long, hot shower and ate dinner with his family. 

For once, he actually held hands and bowed his head when his mom said the prayer. 

He knew his sisters were confused about the sudden change, but it was something that he wanted to do. So he did. 

It wasn't as strange as he thought it would be. 

"Hello?" Harry answered on the fourth ring. 

"Harry, hey."

"Hey. You OK?"

"Yeah, I think so. Um, I'm just kind of... I don't know, actually."

"Hang on a second, OK? I'm gonna go outside."

In the background of the phone, Louis could hear Harry moving around, followed by a door opening and shutting. 

"All right. What's wrong?"

"Where are you?" Louis asked instead. 

"I'm at my mom's house, actually. She was bugging me to come visit her. I haven't been over in a few weeks, so she was saying that she forgot what I looked like."

"Sounds like a typical mom argument," Louis smiled. 

"It is. As if she doesn't have a million pictures of me and my sister all over the house."

"I talked to my dad today."

_Smooth, Louis._

"You did? Louis, that's great!" Harry exclaimed. 

"Yeah."

"What did you say? And why do you sound sad about it?"

"Because I kind of yelled at him."

Harry was silent for a beat before saying, "you yelled at your dad? How could he have possibly pissed you off?"

And it wasn't funny. It really wasn't, but Louis let out a loud laugh anyway. 

"Harry!"

"I didn't mean it like that! Just... Well, what happened?"

"OK. Well it was right after I saw you at the bookstore." 

Louis told him of the conversation with Pastor Campbell, and what happened with his mom and then getting rained out of the cemetery after yelling at the memory of his father and everything he missed about him. 

"I told you, I'm not good at expressing my emotions," Louis concluded. "It just took this to break me, I guess." 

"Louis, you're not broken," Harry reminded. 

"You know what I mean. My walls came crashing down or whatever. I guess it had to happen eventually."

"I'm sorry it took  _that_ to let you talk to your dad, though."

"It's OK. At least I know everything now, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah. I get it."

Louis let out a deep breath. 

"You're sure you're OK?" Harry asked. 

"Yeah, I'm sure. Just a little drained. It's been a long day."

"For me, too."

"Why? Did something happen after you left the bookstore?" 

"Um, yeah," Harry replied after a moment's hesitation. "Just, you know, my mom gave me the 'What are you doing with your life?' speech when I got here and it's just annoying."

"And what'd you tell her?"

"Just, you know, I like my job and I like my tiny apartment and I don't want to go to college for anything right now. She seemed to be OK with that. For now."

"Did you also tell her that you like the crazy townies that you serve drinks to?"

"Oh, of course. I could never forget you crazy townies."

"Good."

"Good. Listen, I'm gonna let you go. You sound like you're gonna pass out on me."

"You're very observant, Styles," Louis complimented. 

"Yeah, my people skills are improving."

"You're welcome."

"I don't remember saying 'Thank you,' but OK," Harry laughed. 

Louis smiled to himself. "OK. I'll talk to you later."

"Later. Sweet dreams."

"I think they will be." 

\---

A few days later, Louis walked into the pub to see Liam waiting for him at a table by the window, watching a baseball game on the television.

“Hey,” he greeted as he sat down in the seat across from him.

“What’s wrong?” Liam immediately asked.

“Hi, good to see you, too,” Louis replied.

“Hi, Louis. I’m glad you’re here. Now what’s wrong?”

Louis took a deep breath. “OK, so remember how you cock blocked me with Harry the other night?“

“Yes, Louis, and I’m sorry. I apologize a trillion times.”

“Good. Anyway, I saw him the other night, and apparently I read all the signs wrong, because he said he just wants to be friends.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did, because I definitely thought he was into me. Guess not.”

“Well, what happened, exactly? Besides that-," he tapped the spot from where Louis' love bite had since faded, "- I never got any specific details.”

So Louis told him exactly what went down at the club, from the time they walked away from the pool tables right up until Liam found them on the dance floor.

“So understandably,” Louis concluded, “I thought something would come of that. And it’s not happening, I guess.”

“That’s just so weird,” Liam muttered. “I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I. I even talked to him on the phone that same night, and it was totally normal. You wouldn't have been able to tell that things were supposed to be awkward between us.”

"Why'd you talk to him on the phone?"

Louis blinked. He should've been able to tell him the truth, how his dad had been sick two years before Louis found out, but he didn't want to just yet. Part of him felt like talking about that was something he only talked about with Harry. 

_Whoa, when did that happen?_

“Glad you’re here, Louis,” Zayn said as he walked over, saving Louis from having to answer. “Now Liam can stop freaking out.”

“I wasn’t freaking out,” Liam denied. “Just, when your best friend disappears for a few days and all of a sudden texts you to meet you at the bar because he needs to talk to you, it can be a little nerve-wracking.”

“Fair enough,” Zayn nodded. He glanced down at the glasses he held in his hands. “Blue Moon is on special tonight. Figured you'd want one, Louis. And Liam, another one."

“You're too good to us, Zayn," Louis said, reaching for his beer. 

After Zayn passed off the drinks, he paused.

“What’s wrong?” Louis questioned.

“Louis, what color are your eyes?” Zayn asked, fixing him with a stare.

“What?”

“Do you have blue eyes?”

“Zayn, you’ve known me for  _how long?_ You haven’t noticed that I have blue eyes yet?”

Zayn reached down and grabbed Louis’ chin, holding his head still.

“Do you guys want some time alone?” Liam joked, watching Zayn stare into Louis’ eyes.

“You do have blue eyes,” Zayn confirmed.

“Isn’t that what I just…” Louis shook his head out of Zayn’s grasp. “Whatever. Now that you know I have blue eyes, is there anything else you want to know about me?”

“How long have you guys known each other?”

“Me and Louis?” Liam asked. “Since we were kids. Third grade.”

“And you guys hang out together a lot?”

“I guess.”

“Louis, are you single?”

“Yes, I am. And Zayn, I’m flattered, but I just see you as a friend.”

Zayn just smirked. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. This is great.”

“Want to tell me what this is all about? I wasn’t expecting an inquisition when I walked in here.”

“Just to clarify, are you dating Liam?”

“What? Eww!”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Liam snapped.

“Shut up, Liam. You know what that means.”

“I don’t, actually. Please explain.”

“Oh my God…”

“I’m waiting.”

Liam crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at Louis, expecting an answer.

“For the love of… Liam, you’re like my brother. I could never date you. Besides, last time I checked, you were mind-blowingly straight.”

“I am, but that doesn’t mean it feels good to hear from my best friend that the idea of dating me is gross.”

“That’s not what I meant, Liam. It’s pretty clear how much I love you. If you were gay, I would’ve made a move by now.”

“Thank you.”

“You need to go talk to Harry,” Zayn cut in.

“Why?” Louis wondered.

“You just said it. It’s clear how much you love Liam. For any outsider, it would look like you love him too much.”

“Wait,” Liam started, “Harry didn’t think-“

“That’s exactly what he thought, Liam,” Zayn answered. “Louis, go get him! He’s at home.”

“Wait, he thinks I’m dating Liam?”

“Yes!”

“Well why should that matter to him?”

“Because he likes you!”

“No, he doesn’t, Zayn,” Louis shook his head.

“Yes, he does. He likes you. And I don’t want to bring it back to the  _Hey Arnold_ days, but he ‘likes you, likes you.’”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does!”

“He said he just wants to be friends, though,” Louis stalled. “Why would he say that if he actually liked me?”

“Because he thought you were taken! Think about it: the dude moved here a few months ago and didn’t know you. He met Liam once or twice but never had a real conversation with him. Then all of a sudden, you show up, all cuddly or whatever with Liam, as you always have been, and honestly, were bound to be given the circumstances with your dad, and well… Can you blame him for thinking you’re a couple?”

“But we’re not a couple.”

“But he didn’t know that!” Zayn exclaimed, starting to get annoyed. “Have you ever told him otherwise?”

Louis thought back on all the interactions he and Harry have had since he moved home.

“I never  _didn’t_ tell him otherwise,” Louis tried.

“What?” Liam and Zayn asked in unison.

“Never mind,” Louis waved them off. “So wait, Harry likes me?”

“I think that’s what Zayn is trying to tell you, Louis,” Liam nodded.

“Believe me, he does,” Zayn continued. “Seriously, he’s been pining over you since you got back from school. He won’t shut up about you.”

“Well why didn’t you say anything before?”

“He never told me who it was that he liked. He just kept saying that he had a boyfriend, and they were really cute together, and they’ve known each other forever. He said he couldn’t break you guys up. He only mentioned the other day how he loved your ‘baby blues.’”

“Aww,” Liam cooed. “That’s sweet.”

“Now that I see your eyes, I know it has to be you.”

“So he never said me by name?” Louis wondered.

“Well, no.”

“So that doesn’t mean it’s me,” Louis shook his head.

“Louis, that would explain why he got all flustered at the club when I came over to see if you were ready to go home,” Liam thought out loud. “And oh shit! Do you remember that time we ran into him when we were out running?”

“Yeah.”

“He said that running must’ve been good for our  _relationship._ Not friendship. I should’ve picked up on that then.”

Louis furrowed his brow. “And he didn’t want to go to the beach unless it was OK with you guys first. And when Niall said we were flirting at the bar, he got nervous because Liam was there, and he didn’t want to cause trouble, I guess. And…”

“Yeah, Louis,” Zayn prodded impatiently.

“One time I came in here with you,” he looked at Liam, “and you had your hand around my waist. When Harry talked to me that night, he was kind of tense. That must’ve been the night he thought we were dating.”

“Can you please go talk to him?” Zayn griped. “He’s at his apartment. Do you need his address?”

“No, I know where he lives.”

“You do?” Liam inquired.

“Yeah. Um, long story. I’ll explain later. I’ll see you guys.”

“Good luck!” they called after him.

He hurried out of the bar, deciding to walk so he could get his thoughts together.

“I like you, Harry,” Louis spoke to himself. “I’m not dating Liam.”

Louis wondered if that would be enough. He still wasn’t sure about what Harry wanted. He didn’t know if Harry wanted a relationship, or wanted to be friends with benefits or just plain old wanted to fuck.

Now that he thought of it, Louis wasn’t sure what he wanted, either.

He guessed that he would want a relationship with Harry.

It wasn’t like he could deny the fact that he liked Harry. For God’s sake, he’d dry humped the man in the middle of a club dance floor a week ago. 

Plus, he was the only one besides Liam who really knew enough about Louis to be able to understand what he needed.

He’d visited his dad’s grave, for God’s sake.

So yeah, that’s what he would say. 'I like you, not Liam, and we should date.'

“Yeah, what could go wrong?” Louis rolled his eyes at himself.

He soon saw the apartment complex and he started walking even faster.

OK, maybe it was more like a jog.

He went to Harry’s building and went to the stairs.

He ran up to the second floor and started pounding on the door for 2A.

“Come on, open up,” he spoke quietly.

He pressed his ear up against the door, listening for any signs of movement.

Not hearing any, he started knocking again.

And then the door was opening, and he was tumbling in.

He landed on the floor with a grunt.

“Louis, what are you doing here?” he heard above him.

He rolled over onto his back and said, “I’m not dating Liam.”

“Huh? Wait, get off the floor.”

Harry extended a hand to help Louis up and shut the door.

“Now, what did you say?”

“I said,” Louis repeated, “I’m not dating Liam. You thought I was? I know you did, because Zayn told me you thought that. Well I'm not. I’m not dating anybody, actually. I kind of want to be dating you, to be honest. And I know that you said you just wanted to be friends, but I don’t want that. I thought I read the signs wrong before, but apparently, I wasn’t wrong? I don’t know, but whatever, it’s up to you. I just don’t want to be just your friend. And I know you can't want that, either, because let's face it, you and I both know what would have happened if the lights didn't come on in the club when they did."

The two of them stared at each other momentarily, as Louis caught his breath after his long speech and Harry processed all of the information. 

“You’re not dating Liam?” Harry eventually asked. 

“No,” Louis shook his head.

“And you’re single?”

“Yes.”

“Completely single?”

“Yeah,” Louis grinned.

“OK. Then I can fully appreciate this, then.”

Harry wrapped a hand around the back of Louis’ neck and yanked him in so that their lips crashed together.

Louis snaked his arms up Harry’s chest and behind his neck, pulling himself closer. Remembering the night at the club, he wove the fingers on one hand into Harry’s hair and held on tightly.

Harry let out a groan and forced Louis’ lips apart with his tongue.

Louis sighed as Harry’s tongue searched out his own, quickly finding and rubbing against it.

He pulled at Harry’s curls even harder than he had before, causing Harry to break the kiss.

Before Louis could be disappointed, he watched as Harry peeled off the thin T-shirt he had been wearing. He then looked at Louis with an expectant look.

He caught on, and slipped out of his tank top.

They kissed again, this time, more slowly.

The important part had already been established: Louis and Harry definitely both wanted this.

Harry backed up, and Louis followed, feeling himself falling over on top of the younger man as they landed on the couch.

They continued kissing and Louis grabbed Harry’s hands in his, interlocking their fingers and pushing upward so that their hands were above their heads.

Harry spread his legs further apart so that Louis fell right between them and he started to grind upward.

Louis rubbed himself off against Harry and pulled his lips away; instead, he chose to focus on Harry’s neck.

He nibbled along the soft skin starting right below his jaw and working his way down to the base of his throat.

“Shit,” Harry whispered below him.

“Why are we still wearing our pants?” Louis wondered just before he started sucking a mark over Harry’s collarbone.

“Because you’re- Oh, shit,” Harry whimpered.

Louis hummed, hinting for Harry to say what he wanted to say.

“Because you’re still holding my hands,” Harry eventually gasped out.

Louis nodded, and released his grip.

Harry immediately reached between them and unbuttoned both of their jeans.

Louis dragged his mouth away from Harry’s skin, admiring his work.

With a smirk, he got off Harry. He kicked off his sneakers and pulled down his jeans and briefs. In that time, Harry had wiggled out of his own pants.

He held his arms open so Louis could return to him.

He did so happily.

Louis lay down on top of Harry, his weight pressing him into the couch as they once again kissed easily.

He arched his back up and slid a hand down Harry’s torso, stopping when his hand was on top of Harry’s crotch.

He cupped Harry’s cock through his briefs, noticing that he was swelling up quickly.

“I want to ride you,” Louis whispered into Harry’s ear.

“Fuck, yeah,” Harry nodded.

With one last rough kiss, Louis started moving down Harry’s chest, stopping at each of his nipples to tease them with his tongue.

Harry moaned when Louis dipped his tongue into his belly button. He eased Harry’s briefs down, letting his cock pop out.

He took it in his hands and licked at the tip. He licked a stripe up the underside of it, pausing at the head and sucking it back into his mouth.

Louis wrapped his lips around Harry’s cock and moved his tongue around it.

When Harry let out a groan, he slowly took more of it into his mouth. He sunk down as far as he could go and covered the rest with his hand.

He bobbed up and down, making sure the movements of his head matched those of his hand.

“Louis, stop,” Harry soon warned. “I’m really close right now.”

The older man reluctantly pulled off with a pop. “Where’s your lube?”

“Bedroom. Top drawer of the dresser.”

Louis nodded and planted a wet smooch on Harry’s chest.

He hurried down the hallway, cupping his hard dick so it wouldn't bounce up and down as he moved.

He knew where the bathroom was, so he assumed the other door led to the bedroom.

He was correct. He flicked the light switch next to the door and walked over to the dresser.

On top, he noticed pictures of Harry with a woman who bore a striking resemblance to him.

_Must be his mom._

Louis wondered if he might meet her one day.

“Louis, hurry up!”

He opened the top drawer and found a bottle of lube as well as a box of condoms.

Shrugging, he reached in and grabbed a handful of them.

Might as well be prepared.

He rushed back to Harry, finding him stroking himself slowly.

“You want to do this, or should I?”

Harry held out three fingers without hesitation.

Louis grinned and poured lube all over them.

He knelt over Harry, legs spread as far as they could go on the couch, and put his hands on Harry’s shoulders to support himself.

Harry placed his fingers around Louis’ hole, teasing him slowly, getting the spot slicked up before pushing one in.

Louis pressed his lips together as he tried to relax.

It just wasn’t every day a really hot guy was fingering Louis open, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

“You OK?” Harry asked.

Louis nodded, and, noticing that his eyes were closed, opened them.

“More than OK,” he answered.

Harry smiled and started fucking his finger in quicker.

Louis gyrated his hips back and forth, helping with the stretching process.

Soon enough, Harry was pressing in a second finger and started to scissor them back and forth.

“You’re gonna hit my-“

Louis cut himself off with a gasp as Harry passed over his prostate, sending a thrill up his spine.

Harry smirked and spread his fingers apart as far as they would go, and quickly sent his third finger in.

Louis shut his eyes again and licked his lips. A few minutes later, he said, “I’m ready. I’m ready.”

Harry pulled his fingers out slowly and wiped them off on his leg while Louis rolled a condom over Harry’s length.

Louis poured some more lube onto Harry before taking his dick into his hands and lining himself up.

Harry grabbed onto Louis’ hips and the older man started to lower himself down. His eyes slightly rolled back once the tip was in, which made him only want to bottom out that much sooner.

Once he did, he rocked back and forth for a moment to get himself used to the stretch. Then, he placed his hands back on Harry’s shoulders, and rose up a few inches before dropping back down.

Both men let out a moan at Louis’ action.

Louis tucked his legs in close to Harry’s and lifted and lowered himself up and down in a slow, but steady rhythm.

“So you are good at taking it, huh?” Harry asked, referring to their conversation in the club.

“I’m even better at giving,” he boasted.

He swiveled his hips in little figure 8’s the next time he sunk down. 

“Can’t wait to see that,” Harry winked.

Louis leaned down and kissed Harry square on the mouth, pushing his hips back and pulling them forward.

He let out a loud moan when the next motion caused Harry’s cock to hit his prostate.

He sat back up and started fucking himself down in earnest.

“Shit,” he muttered, each movement shooting electricity through his body. He was at the perfect angle, and he willed himself not to stop moving.

Louis was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t notice when Harry planted his feet on the couch cushion. Without warning, Harry thrusted up at the same time that Louis thrusted down.

“Oh, my God,” he cried out in surprise.

“You like that?”

“Yeah, do it again.”

Louis looked right into Harry’s eyes as he rose up almost all the way off Harry’s cock, and wordlessly, they met each other in the middle.

He let out a whimper as they repeated their actions.

“Oh!” Louis exclaimed as one particular rough thrust caused him to lose his balance.

He fell forward slightly, even more so after Harry started relentlessly fucking up into him.

Louis rolled his hips back as best as he could, but for the most part, he just took what Harry was giving him.

So quickly he didn't even have time to react, Harry flipped them over so he was on top.

Louis let out a moan when Harry slid back in and pounded away. He threw one leg over the top of the couch and one off the side so he was spread as far as possible.

“Harry, I’m so fucking close, oh my God,” Louis groaned.

His fingers were scratching down Harry’s back, but the younger man didn’t seem to mind.

Harry reached between them. He took Louis’ cock in his hand and started jerking him off in time to how hard and fast he was fucking Louis.

Louis let out a whine. He could feel himself starting to tighten around Harry.

He closed his eyes, waiting for his orgasm to overtake him. It wasn’t until he felt Harry’s lips against his that he let go, releasing all over Harry’s hand.

He groaned in relief while Harry continued to fuck him, only lasting another minute before he was filling up the condom.

The two men lay there for a while as they caught their breath.

“Well that was good,” Harry finally commented.

Louis burst out in laughter. “Shut up. You know that was better than good.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

Harry slid out of Louis as gently as he could, pulling off the condom and tying it up before tossing it on the coffee table.

They cuddled up on the sofa, getting comfortable in their post sex haze.

“Do you want to shower?” Harry wondered.

“In a little bit.”

“OK.”

It was quiet again, and then Louis snorted.

“What?” Harry asked.

“I can’t believe you thought I was dating Liam,” Louis chuckled.

“Well, I didn’t know!” Harry exclaimed.

“You should’ve.”

“I know I should’ve, but I didn’t. I mean, the second time I ever saw you, the two of you came into the bar with your arms around each other and you talked to Liam’s work buddies, and you put your head on his shoulder. It all looked very couple-y.”

“We are kind of touchy-feely with each other,” Louis admitted. “It’s just how I am, though. And especially with Liam; we’ve known each other forever, and, I guess, he’s the only one who really understands my life? Like, he’s been there through it all. We grew up together; we babysat together. He was there when my dad was sick, and sometimes even helped my mom with the girls when I was away at school. He’s the brother I never had. And I guess that with everything going on, I just kind of clung to him more than usual.”

“I get that. But you can understand why I’d be a little hesitant to try to steal you away from him, right?”

“I do. Wish you would’ve talked to me about it, though; would’ve made life easier.”

 “I know; just, I thought that maybe you were like, using me to make him jealous or something?”

“What?”

“Yeah. Like, the flirting and then the night at the club, and I just didn’t know. I thought maybe you guys were having problems or something, and that’s why you left him at the pool table to go to the bar with me.”

“You thought I was using  _you_ to make  _someone else_ jealous?” Louis smiled.

“It’s happened before,” Harry shrugged. “It’s actually the reason I moved out here in the first place.”

“People using you?”

“Basically. Just, guys not seeing me as the one they want to build a relationship with; rather, I’m the guy they use to make sure the relationship they really want actually happens.”

Louis stayed silent, hoping Harry would further explain. 

"Long story short," Harry started, "the last guy I liked before I moved here acted like he liked me, but really, he liked my friend; my roommate, actually."

“That’s fucked up.”

"Yeah. And my roommate was the jealous type, so it worked for him. After a month or so, I walked in on them going at it on the couch, and I just decided that I didn't want to live there anymore. So I started looking for apartments, found this one, and here I am."

"Wow. I'm so sorry, babe."

“It’s OK. I didn’t have many friends in my old town, anyway. I mostly hung out with my mom and sister. And my stepdad.”

“I have a lot to learn about you, Harry Styles,” Louis realized.

“Well, hopefully we’ll have plenty of time.”

Louis leaned over and pressed his lips to Harry’s.

They lay there for a few minutes, just lazily kissing on the couch. It wouldn’t lead to anything more, as both of them were still in minor recovery mode.

“You busy next week?” Harry asked later.

“Not really.”

“Good. Because I’m taking you out.”

“Oooh, where?”

“Haven’t gotten that far, but I’ll figure it out.”

\---

The next morning, Louis attempted to sneak in without waking everybody up.

So of course, his mom was already waiting up for him on the couch in the living room.

“Hi,” she greeted, taking a sip from her mug.

“Hey,” he returned cautiously.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure. About what?”

“Your father.”

Louis sat down next to her after he kicked off his sneakers. “OK.”

“First, I want to say I am sorry for not telling you about him being sick the first time. But I also wanted to explain to you why we didn’t.”

“OK.”

“You mentioned that he could’ve passed away during that time. And we knew that. That crossed our minds a lot, actually. We thought about it every day. Every single day, we thought about telling you kids the truth. It was a risk we took: one to help preserve your happy childhoods for just a little longer. And then it went away. Your father was healthy again and it was all right. So, we thought, ‘no harm, no foul,’ and tried to wipe our hands of it.”

“But…” Louis prompted.

“But then it came back, and we knew we couldn’t rely on simple prayer again. We started going to church and we brought the girls. And I know it was a selfish thought, but I firmly believed that God would see our efforts and help your Dad again. But it didn’t work. It didn’t work, because your father is still gone.”

Louis licked his lips before pulling the bottom one between his teeth.

“I know what you thought of me when he passed. At the funeral, it was pretty clear where you stood when everybody was making their remarks. And I know that’s not how you coped with it, but it’s how I did. Louis, I needed things to make sense. In the beginning, I couldn’t understand why it had to happen to your father. But as time went on, it was more comforting to put my trust in God than in medicine; to have faith in Him to make things OK, because deep down, I knew that the second time was different than the first. That’s why we told you when we did. I’m actually sort of thrilled that you let me have that, and, besides your outburst over your dad’s sweater-“

Louis blushed at the memory.

“-You’ve respected how I wanted to approach the situation, and I thank you so much for that. Which makes it even harder for me, because looking at that, I realize that I didn’t respect your right to know about what was going on with your father. So, once again, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”

“Don’t,” Louis shook his head. “You were right. I would’ve wanted to do something to help, whatever it took. The soccer team would’ve been first. Let’s be honest; that was the most time consuming. And I appreciate that you wanted to try to give me a normal childhood as long as you could, even if it was only temporary. You’ve always done the right thing for us, Mom. I see now that you made the right decision back then, too.”

“Thank you.”

“And you’re right about another thing. I’m not comforted by religion, and trusting God to lead my life down the right path. I’m not sure what I believe, but maybe, I do think that there’s a Heaven. At least, there is for Dad.”

Jay nodded. “It’s nice to think of him up there, somewhere he can rest comfortably for all of eternity, with loved ones he didn’t think he’d ever see again. It’s better than being in a wooden box underground, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Louis agreed. “And whichever way we look at it, he’s not in pain anymore.”

“Exactly. I miss him like hell, though.”

“Mom,” he gasped, a little surprised at her word choice.

“You know what I mean,” she smiled.

“I do. I feel the same way, too.”

\---

 **One Month Later**  

 

“Hey, Dad,” Louis greeted as he sat down at his father’s grave. "I have news! Are you ready?"

A few months ago, Louis would've felt ridiculous posing a question like that. But now, it just felt... natural. 

“I got an interview, Dad,” he replied. “Yeah. It’s on Tuesday morning. The district is only fifteen minutes away. How amazing is that? Um, remember that soccer game junior year of high school when I got in that fight with the goalie? Yeah, it’s actually for that school. Weird, huh? But the goalie’s long gone. I already checked.”

He chuckled to himself at his comment.

“Anyway, I’m incredibly nervous. It’s for an English teacher position, with potential to assist on school productions. So it’s pretty much perfect, especially since I’ll be brand new to it all. Mom’s taking me shopping this weekend to buy ‘interview-appropriate clothing,’ whatever that means. I feel like she’s going to try to put me in a tux or something.”

Louis rocked back and forth a little as he sat, trying to figure out what else to say.

“Um, Liam sends his love,” he stated. “He’s working today, but he made me promise I would bring him next time I came so he can actually speak for himself. I brought someone else, though.”

He looked back and held out a hand. “Can you come sit over here?”

Harry nodded and sat down next to Louis, taking his hand in his own.

“And, you already know Harry. I believe you’ve met before?”

“Hey, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry greeted softly.

“He’s pretty cool, Dad,” Louis continued. “I wish you’d gotten the chance to get to know him. I think you’d like him, Dad. He’s funny sometimes-“

“Hey!” Harry whined.

“But he makes me laugh a lot,” Louis smiled. “Which, I guess, is something I can really use now. And he’s really sweet and considerate and he lets me talk about nothing and everything whenever I want. And the girls like him, too. Daisy and Phoebe like practicing their braiding skills on his hair.”

He thought about his next comment before he said it, making sure it was what he wanted to say.

“We’ve been dating for the past month, Dad. I know it’s like, super soon to be passing any kind of opinion on a relationship like that, but I got a good feeling about him. I think he’s a keeper.”

Harry beamed from his spot next to Louis before he said, “I have nothing but the best intentions with your son, Mr. Tomlinson. I promise. I feel the same way about him, too, by the way.”

Louis grinned. “See, dad? I found a gentleman. Aren’t you proud?”

The two of them laughed lightly.

They stayed for a little while longer, and Louis updated his dad on how the Turners’ dog had started barking all night.

Since their houses were so close together, Louis could hear every single bark the little animal let out, so he hadn’t been sleeping well.

“It’s such a cute dog, but it’s so whiny and annoying,” Louis complained. “If it acts up on Monday night, I might need to sleep somewhere else. I can’t go in to my interview with bags under my eyes. It won’t look right.”

“Where are you gonna stay?” Harry wondered.

Louis just looked at Harry and smiled, slowly raising an eyebrow.

“Did you just invite yourself over?”

“Maybe. Are you working Monday night?”

“I’m not, actually.”

“Well good. It’s settled, then.”

“Remember what I told you before about not being able to say ‘no’ to you?” Harry questioned.

“Yes, I do.”

“That still holds true.”

“Good,” Louis grinned.

He turned back to the gravestone and said, “Sorry about that, dad. Didn’t mean to include you in that.”

“Sorry,” Harry apologized, as well.

“Anyway, we have to head out. We’re getting an early dinner before Harry has to go to work.”

They stood up and brushed off the back of their pants.

“I love you, Dad,” Louis stated. “And I’ll be back. Definitely. We still have a lot to talk about.”

**Author's Note:**

> So basically, the day of my grandma's funeral (November 2014), I went home and wrote down how I felt during the service. I had, and still have, a lot of feelings when it came to religion, if you couldn't tell by the subject matter. (However, that doesn't mean I look down on/dislike/whatever else anybody who does follow a religion. Let's not get that twisted.)  
> Then, I kept thinking about it, and it became the opening scene with Louis in the church.  
> My mind kept wandering, and then Louis meeting Harry in the bar became the next part. And so on and so forth until it spiraled out of control into this 29K word beast, after working on it on and off for the past few months.  
> But I like it. I'm glad I wrote it. I worked damn hard and I'm proud of how it turned out. Maybe someone can relate to this story even a little bit.  
> If you did read it, thank you! If you liked it, then yay! If not, I'm sorry.  
> If you find any inaccuracies (spelling/grammar/religious), let me know so I can fix them! 
> 
> And as always, you can also contact me on [tumblr](http://www.flamboyantommo.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/angelique_lee). If you follow me on either, let me know who you are so I definitely follow you back!


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